The Son of Wolf and Dove
by Tytue
Summary: Connor continues his work with the Assassins, but danger looms on the horizon, and everyone he knows, loves, the nation and his cause is once again put in danger. But nothing is ever easy, and as new enemies rise, and loyalties are tested, the characters must once again stand and fight, in a nation without true justice or freedom. Sequel to Chasing the Moon. *Discontinued*
1. Chapter 1

**Uduak**

It was raining. The drops sounded like tiny pattering footsteps at they came down upon the wooden roof of the church. All else was silence.

The doors opened, sending in a flood of evening light, and footsteps approached where I sat between the pews.

I came to the church not for the prayer, for I had my own Gods, but for the silence it brought. Within the walls of the church there was silence, peace. Such things I needed in my troubled time.

The sound of footsteps arose behind me, followed by the steady patter as rain water dripped to the floor from soaked clothing. His steps were calm, observing, much like a predator hunting its prey, unaware of the prey's next move.

" It is done."

" Is this what you want?" I asked. I'd asked the question a hundred times, once more would not hurt.

" It is what you want," he answered, and for the hundredth time more my heart skipped a beat.

I shook my head, sending loose, tangled hair trickling across my cheeks and down my shoulders. My fingers tightened around the pew in front of me, and without meaning to my eyes glanced up to fall upon the cross perfectly lined against the front of the church, the carved image of the man named Jesus crucified upon it.

" It is what is necessary," he added.

" What of the others? There are still those out there who need-"

" It is done," he said his voice firm.

" Yes," I said, softly. " Of course."

I moved to stand, my trembling hands barely supporting my weight as I gained my footing. I turned slowly to him, willing my face to show nothing more than acceptance, instead of sadness and regret.

He stood before me, tall and bold, arms outstretched, in his hands the folded clothe of his robe, atop it the sword I had forged for him, covered and harmless.

His offering to me, his promise.

_What will taking all that he worked for make me? _

He did not rush me, as I slowly with violently trembling hands reached for his offering, his surrender. When my hands finally fell upon the bundle of cloth and metal they did so with perfect stillness.

The weight of it all felt foreign to my arms, and I fell back onto my knees, unable to grasp the weight of it. The sword-his surrender fell from my hands onto the floor as I sat back weeping.

* * *

><p><strong>Connor<strong>

_What is it that you really want Uduak? _

He wished to ask her, but the words failed him as he walked beside Uduak examining a pomegranate the merchant was showing to her.

" Straight from Asia," the merchant said. "Sweet as an crisp apple. Here a sample for the lady." He lifted a bowl of red, flesh covered seeds.

" May I?" Uduak asked.

" Of course," the merchant said.

She removed her glove, reached into the bowl and took a pinch of seeds. Juice dribbled down her fingertips as she brought the dripping seeds to her lips and enclosed them in her mouth.

Eyes closed she savored the taste of the fruit, a small smile on her lips.

" Do you like them?" The merchant asked.

She opened one eye slowly, then the other. " Excuse my ignorance sir, but do I shallow the seeds?"

" Ah no," he said chuckling. " You spit them out."

She did so with as much grace as she could muster, slipping a small clothe from her bosom as the last seed was discarded and gently wiping her lips with it.

" I will take two to of those sir," she said reaching for her purse.

Connor had the money ready before she could open her purse. He slid the money into the merchant's hands.

" Have your pick of the lot," the merchant said.

He watched her considering her options for a moment before the sudden rush of people, then the call of voices caught his attention. Without thinking he trailed towards it, following the crowd, blending without meaning to.

The crowd took him to a dais, atop it men and women, their skins almost as black as coals stood, chained and half naked, eyes downcast.

The sight both disgusted and angered him. The auctioneer yelled from the dais calling the prices of the slaves into the crowd.

Connor and the Assassin's had been successful in their latest mission which involved freeing slaves, and eliminating those who called themselves masters. Yet after it was all done he was still dissatisfied with their progress.

_" __We cannot win them all my brother," _One of the Assassin's, a transfer from the south, named Brutus had said placing a large hand on Connor's shoulder. " _Go home, have a drink, make love to your woman. Tomorrow is another day, who knows what troubles it brings." _

He'd agreed, reluctantly and returned to the homestead where Uduak and Ngozi were waiting, just as he'd left them days before.

" Connor," Uduak called now beside him. "You know not to leave me alone; I may just buy the entire market." Her hands slipped around his arm.

"Is there something that you want?" He asked. He would buy her entire market if that is what she wanted.

She gave him a puzzled look, and then smiled.

The noise of the crowd was getting further and further away, and it took him all of an entire minute to realize she was leading him away from the dais, the slaves, the shouting actioners.

She pressed her face into his arm. " I want so much," she began.

He glanced down at her then. Her hair was curled and pulled up into a tight twisted bun, held by a tie of flowers. She wore an elaborate pale blue dress, the sleeves and ends ruffled and flaying into wisps of curled silk and clothe. She wore no paint or powder as was usually her custom, but was bare of all that wasn't the natural tint of her own skin.

She let him go suddenly, taking a few steps back away from him. Her daze was downcast as she said, " Go."

He tried to take a step towards her; she took a step back shaking her head.

"When you are finished her, return to me my wolf, I'll be waiting." She started past him, hands balled tightly in the fabric of her dress; he grabbed her forearm stopping her. Still she refused to look at him. " Don't die."

" I will try not to," he said softly a small smile catching the ends of his lips before he could stop it.

She glanced up then, her eyes steady and determined, her lips curled into a frown. " Don't. I'm too young and beautiful to be a widow."

" Uduak…" he began. She came forward then in a couple fast steps leaning up onto her toes and kissing him. When she pulled back she did so smiling. Then before he could say anymore she let him go.

He refused to watch her go, knowing that if he did we would follow her. Instead he walked forward, towards the madness.

* * *

><p><strong>Myriam<strong>

Myriam saw Connor before Uduak did. It seemed she always did. Or perhaps she was always looking. He came and went so often, that she never knew his schedule. But perhaps Uduak did. Perhaps that was why she never actively searched for him.

He stood in the doorway of the inn, shadowed and huge, his gaze focused on one thing among the hustle and bustle of the inn's pub.

Uduak.

Myriam had censed to be surprised at the amount of attention Uduak commanded. Even now, more than half of the men in the pub, mostly sailors were giving her their full attention. Shaking cups half filled with whisky, rum or beer, howling at the game of arm wrestling that would decide which man got Uduak's blessing, bestowing compliments-it went on and on almost all night with no apparent end.

Uduak was born and bred to adored, admired and noticed in more than one way. Myriam knew that the moment she met Uduak, all premed and painted, demanding attention without once opening her mouth. Thinking back on it, Myriam realized she hadn't much liked Uduak at the beginning for that very reason.

" After I wins this fight, the fair lady will give me a gift aye. Perhaps a sweet song, or a gentle kiss aye?" the man chuckled then winced as his hand began to fall under the strain.

Uduak pressed a gloved hand over her mouth and giggled. " Perhaps," she said, " If you win."

Myriam took a sip of her ale and stood. Connor had walked fully inside the inn, and still Uduak had not noticed.

" This is a regular thing," she said approaching Connor. " You might as well take a seat. Here I'll clank my cup to get her attention. That seems to be all she hears."

She let her eyes roam over Connor's face, the frown he always carried, his attentive gaze.

_He always looks so focus and intense…yet sad. _She'd only seen him truly smile in front of her a hand full of times, grin once. The sights were as rare as shooting stars, and just as beautiful.

_He always smiles for Uduak…_They were small, sudden almost unnoticeable smiles, Myriam doubted Uduak even saw them, so busy she was watching for everything else. But Myriam did. She should not be, noticing something so private, so intimate, but she could not help it.

" I did not know she worked here," Connor said suddenly breaking her thoughts. His eyes had moved from Uduak to the men arm wrestling at the table. One was an inch away from winning and was not shy about announcing it. Beside them Uduak glanced on pretending flattery and surprise.

Connor's frown deepened.

_Uduak can't you see your hurting him…_

Without thinking Myriam clinked her now empty cup against the table. Uduak, noticing the familiar sound glanced up.

Myriam grinned and pointed at Connor. Uduak's eyes widened.

" You did not have to do that," Connor said. He did not sound angry, nor gracious, but strangely aloof. Still his eyes said something else entirely as he watched Uduak slide from behind the counter.

" I needed a refill," Myriam said forcing herself to look away from him, from the flash of want and hope that crossed over his face as Uduak approached.

_Out of all the women…and he chose Uduak…_There was no doubt in Myriam's mind that he was in love with her. Just when Myriam was starting to believe she couldn't imagine Connor being with anyone, letting anyone truly know him, Uduak proved her wrong.

Still, for all the happiness Uduak showed now, Myriam often saw differently when Connor was not around. Uduak spent most of her time at her home, or within the walls of the church. Sometimes on bent knee or sitting her back against the pews eyes closed. She never told Myriam what was wrong, and Myriam doubted she ever would again. The time for that was over. Even through Myriam had kept the secret of Ngozi from Connor, she'd sworn she would not keep something like that from him again.

It was hard to think about, Myriam realized, for there was once a time when she, herself was in love with Connor, and at times, as embarrassing as it might be, wondered if she still was. Perhaps it was his strength, how he could take down wolves, bears….men with his bare hands, which had always been a point she looked for in men. Or his bravery and valor, he so often defended and helped the weak and needing without being asked or seeking anything in return.

_Or it could be his looks…_Myriam thought. He was handsome, with his hard almost stone like features, and built stature. He reminded Myriam of the painted pictures of Greek Gods, from books on canvases. Certainly the older women of the homestead had no complaints or shame for that matter when they called upon him to help with their daily chores. Even Prudence had blushed and nearly swooned when she happened upon a shirtless Connor helping Warren repair a leak in her roof.

" Connor…I wasn't expected you back so soon," Uduak said pushing back a stray piece of hair that had trailed in her face. " Myriam how long have you two been sitting here?" She turned her now concerned hazel eyes on Myriam. Her brows furrowed, and her mouth set into a frown.

Myriam couldn't help but smile. Uduak was not good at frowning. The action alone made her look like some mask on a stage during a play.

" Relax," Myriam said. " It's only been a few minutes."

Uduak looked to Connor for confirmation. He nodded solemnly.

Uduak let out a sigh of relief but she still looked concerned. " Were the two of you testing me?" She asked stubbornly. " To see how long it would take me to notice you came in?"

_" __I must know my wants from my needs…" _

_Why am I thinking of that now_…

Her thoughts were drifting to the day of her wedding, her marriage to Norris. She'd ran away, under the pretense that she was afraid of becoming a housewife, of adhering to the standards set by men, but that was only part of it. She'd run away because she'd felt guilty, guilty that perhaps she had loved another more than Norris, and was merely settling.

_" __I want you…" _She'd said in a huffed desperation. The words had come out, uncontrolled like bile, and once she released them they were impossible to put back in. Still Connor had said nothing for a long time, not until she finally turned to face him.

_" __You need Norris." _He'd said the words so clear and confidently that they'd melted all resistance Myriam felt in her heart.

She could only guess that Uduak was who he needed.

" You will get no tip from me," Myriam said laughing. She placed a hand on Uduak's shoulder.

A roar erupted from the counter then as the winner had rein victorious and all eyes turned to Uduak. She grinned from where she stood, pushing down her wrinkled dress, before throwing up her hands.

" A sweet song was it?" Uduak said.

The man grinned, he was old and missing most of his teeth. " Or a sweeter kiss," he said.

Uduak trailed across the room to where he stood. " A kiss it is then." She pressed palm of her hand to her lips and blew him a kiss. The man roared then clutched his heart.

" Lads I think I be in love."

Uduak ever the great actor blushed and bowed before announcing her leave, signaling a surge of protests.

Myriam rolled her eyes at the show, laughing when Uduak stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes in a silly expression.

" See you tomorrow Myriam," she said taking her place by Connor.

_She is so small compared to him…_Myriam thought as she examined the two of them standing side by side.

" Wouldn't miss it for even the biggest stag in the forest," Myriam said. " Goodnight Uduak. Connor."

He nodded at her, and left the pub, Uduak following, her dress the color of the sky trailing behind her.

As the door shut, the tendrils of something Myriam could not quite describe arose and wrapped around her heart.

* * *

><p><strong>Connor<strong>

" You work in the inn now?" Connor asked his voice coming out harsher than he intended. It had been a while since he saw her act that way.

She turned to him then, her head cocked to the side, her full lips parting in a grin, revealing the glint of teeth, pulling the fullness of lips.

" Are you jealous Mr. Kenway."

He refused to look at her, at her teasing face and twitching lips that were seconds away from a laugh.

" No," he said stubbornly.

" They asked me to help. A ship full of sailors took dock today."

" We have money," he said.

" It was not about the money," she corrected.

" What is it that you need?" He asked. Whatever it was she wanted he would give, she need not ask twice. She should have known by now that she was to want for nothing.

She sighed heavily, " I need you to stop trying to start an argument. There are more pressing matters to attend to."

He let the matter go for the moment, falling silent to give Uduak time to speak.

" Tomorrow is Ngozi's baptism," she said. It was Ngozi's Sixth name day as well, Connor knew. " He also wants his markings," she added touching her own shoulders where her swirls of tattoos lay. " Circe has agreed, but I do not know. Ngozi understand that the baptism by Father Timothy is necessary, expected even as a child of the Homestead…but this…"

Connor understood her blight. Uduak was very protective of the boy, she was his first born after all, and all she had when Connor was not around, but in some ways her sense of need to protect him also crippled Ngozi. Connor knew full well the feeling of overwhelming love that a boy could feel for his mother, but also the overbearing smothering of her embrace.

" I agree, in this there must be some consideration, Connor said." But in some things you must let him choose."

Uduak nodded, " Perhaps you should speak to him. He tells me so very little anymore," she sounded saddened by this. " Whenever you can of course."

" I will see him tonight." Connor answered.

Uduak raised one black eyebrow. " You will be here that long?"

He nodded, and she wrapped a firm arm around his own, and pulled herself close, purposely pressing the curve of her body into his side. Her skin was warm, almost feverous through the cloth of his robe.

It was strange, how just the mere touch of her skin, the sound of her voice made him feel. It was a mixture of being weak and strong at the same time, knowing and not knowing.

" Thank you," she said her face still pressed into his arm. "For caring. It makes me happy."

_She says these words and yet she does not look happy…_

" You do not look well," he said.

She glanced away, " I am fine."

She was lying, and the knowledge of that lie, angered him. Still he did not let it show.

" Are the Assassin's here as well?"

" They are in the Manor."

She kept her gaze down. " All of them?"

He knew what it meant without having to ask.

He nodded, " All from the south."

" Yes of course," she said.

She's wanted to say more, he could see it in the curve of her lips and brow, the way her nails dung into the soft flesh of her palms. Since that day in the church when he'd offered her everything he had to give and she refused to take it, when it came to matters of the Assassin's she often held her tongue.

_This is not what she wants…_he thought. Yet were he to try and quit, to give up everything yet again, she would leave him. This he was sure of. The thought of it, of her leaving him again, forever was too much to bear.

" Connor."

He turned at the sound of his name to see Aveline coming towards them. Uduak's hand stiffened about his arm.

" Madame Uduak," she said, " A pleasure to see you again."

" You as well Aveline," Uduak said.

" Such an elegant dress," Aveline said. " It is quite beautiful on you."

Uduak smiled. " It is the handwork of our local seamstress," Uduak let his arm go. " But I doubt you've come to speak of dresses and the like," she said wiping her gloved hands against her dress as if wiping the matter off. "It is Connor you want I presume?"

" With your leave of course," Aveline said sounding amused.

Uduak smiled. " Of course."

Aveline nodded, and Connor took a step forward. Uduak moved out of his way, hesitating for a moment before heading towards her home. He watched her go warily, before turning back around to face Aveline.

" Everything is in place," she said. " They will return in a couple of hours. I regret to say we may need your help."

Connor nodded slowly.

Aveline reached out a hand and touched his shoulder, " Until then my brother." Then she was gone back out into the night.

When he'd finally found the will, he traveled up the path to Uduak's home, he expected Ngozi to spring from the house, only to find that he was bathing himself and the wolf pup.

" Do not distract him," Brianna said, " He will see you when he is done." Then she led up him the stairs to Uduak's room.

Slowly, and with sore tired legs, Connor followed her stopping at the door. Uduak stood by her vanity stand, gone was her sky colored dress, so that all she wore was her shift, petticoat and stay. She'd pulled out the band of flowers holding her hair up, so that the once tight curls now bounced loosely over her shoulders, and her bangs trailed in her face.

Walking to the bed, Brianna, looking as wiry and tireless as ever, gathered up the discarded dress. She regarded Connor with cold brown eyes, before turning to Uduak, asking without words if she wished for her to stay. It was times like this that made Connor wonder whether the old woman still saw herself as Uduak's mistress than she did her guardian and adopted mother.

Uduak nodded slowly, eyes downcast, and Brianna left the room holding the dress. Connor knew very little about dresses, but he could tell it was the work of Ellen. From his understanding the woman was obtaining a good number of rich clients from the city, and often called on Uduak to model her dresses in exchange for being able to keep them. He could only assume the dress Brianna was taking away was one such case. Even so, the dress was beautiful on her. He could not imagine anyone else wearing it, and looking nearly as beautiful as Uduak had.

_Should I have told her that before? _He was new to this, and the complications of relationships were lost on him. The women in the homestead had tried, subtly of coarse, to coach him on such matters. Pointing out whenever Uduak was around how beautiful or refreshing she looked, cooing him to do the same, or mentioning something Uduak had said to them as jest, hoping he would get the message and prompt into action. Such things when carried out awkwardly, gained him a small smile, a light touch on the arm, or in extreme cases a queer puzzled look.

" She is very beautiful," Uduak said breaking his line of thought. He glanced up, not knowing to who she was referring. " Aveline," Uduak finished without hesitation.

Connor said nothing. He knew he should not deny nor accept that statement. For it would end the same either way.

" That dress suited you," he said instead the words coming out harsher than he intended them to.

" I suppose so," she said. A small smile touched the ends of her lips. " I have gone so long not wearing them, or a proper stay for that matter, that I've forgotten how uncomfortable they are." She shifted uncomfortably, pressing her hands against her straightened back. " It took Brianna and I two hours to dress. If only dressing were as easy as undressing."

She folded her arms across her chest and walked to her vanity stand where jars of rose water and half-filled tins of power and paint sat.

" Do you have to meet with them tonight?" She asked suddenly.

" Yes," he said slowly. " If they need me."

" Yes of course," she said her hand falling on a teacup. She brought the cup to her lips and took a sip. When she sat it down, Connor noticed her hands were shaking. " I should go to Brianna…to get out of these undergarments. You should rest until then, you look exhausted." Her words sounded forced. He could tell she was not happy with the decision, the fact made even more clear as he took the furthest route through the room as not to pass directly by him.

_This is hard for her…but it must be this way. _She'd been in enough danger already throughout the years, the time for that was over. He was going to make newer enemies, stronger enemies that would do anything to hinder his mission, hurt anyone. He would keep her and Ngozi out of their sights and their minds.

When she returned filling the room with the scent of rose water, he was no closer to rest than he had been when she left. Instead he lay stilly on her bed, rid of his heavy weapons, and hot robe, eyes closed, taking in the scents of paints and perfume. He'd been thinking of the days ahead of the missions he would soon have, the slaves that would be free, the dangers and enemies he would make, and how he would handle it all.

Sometimes it felt like to much, like he would collapse under the strain of it all.

The feeling of the bed shifting beside him, and the softness of flesh against his arm brought him back to reality, to the situation at hand. He turned to face her, to see she'd dressed in her nightclothes.

She frowned at him. " Why are you not sleeping?"

_How can I sleep? At a time like this? _

" I am not tired."

Her frown did not move. " You should rest," she said, " You may not get another chance-"

" I am much more concerned for you," he said, " And Ngozi."

She lifted the pillow and pushed it against his face. Familiar weight settled on his lap. He lifted the pillow to find Uduak had straddled him. She furrowed her eyebrows and leaned in closer to him, until their noses brushed, and her loose hair tickled his cheeks. Her breath smelled of camille mint tea and honey.

" Do you truly think me so weak?" She asked her voice soft yet demanding. " That I cannot care for myself and our son?"

He knew not the words to say. He did not see her as completely weak yet he felt the overwhelming need to protect her, to shield her from the worst the world could offer, even though he knew she's seen and experienced the most of it, long before he had.

It was what he'd felt in the inn, as he watched her carelessly flit among the men, seemly unaware of what most of them were capable of.

She kissed him, before he could answer. He opened his mouth under hers, a swift movement that sent a sigh of breath between them, as refreshing as a cool drink of water on a hot summer day.

She pulled back first, denying him as he leaned forward to capture her lips again, to bring back the feeling of her embrace. It was times like this that he forgot the sadness at the death of his mother, and Achilles, his people leaving, the state of the country.

She pressed her hand against the side of his face, and leaned in as if to kiss him, only to pull away at the last second and brush her lips against the side of his jaw, down his neck.

" Or are you afraid someone will take all that you've fought for away?" She asked her lips against his skin. When she finally moved back up to capture his lips again, the kiss was rough and urgent. Slender fingers slipped under cotton of his shirt to the warm skin of his chest, moving over scar and muscle, as if trying to memorize every dint, ridge, imperfection. The feeling of cool fingers, brushing against newly formed bruises, and tiny cuts, felt good, refreshing. It was almost enough to make him fall asleep right then and there.

When her fingertips brushed over new freshly bandaged wounds she paused and pulled away.

The wound, caused by a graze from a axe, settled on the skin right above his heart. A flesh wound, that was easily sewed and treated with no major complications. Yet by the look on her face, one would think it was she who received the wounding blow and not himself.

He opened his mouth to speak, to explain what had happened and she kissed him silent. When she finally pulled back they both were breathless. Her hands slid up to cup both sides of his face, and hold his head still, forcing him to look at her.

" I love you ," she said suddenly her fingers trembling. "Regardless of anything else, anyone else. I care nothing for the Gods or fate. I am yours, Connor Kenway. Nothing or no one can take me from you. Do not forget that."

He expected—wanted her to say that he was hers, but she did not, instead she pressed herself closer to his form, until he could feel the complete and utter softness of her, count the beats of her heart, time the rhyme of her breathing.

_This was to much. She was too much. _He did not come here for this, but to speak to her. On the matter of their son, her health, what she needed-wanted. But somehow she always managed to distract him-and somehow he always let her.

She trailed downwards, moving over his chest , her breath moving through the clothe of his shirt. She continued pulling up his shirt, pressing her lips to his skin, running her tongue over the ridge of muscle and bone, stopping when she reached his groin, the barrier of strings tied into knots that held his trousers up.

He expected her to come back up, to kiss him again, but she merely continued her deft fingers unloosing the strings. She pulled his member from its holdings.

He grabbed her shoulders then, pulling her up.

It had been over a month since he'd slept with her. Because neither of them were in the mood, to tired, or to busy, or angry at one another for something said, done, or not done.

He would be lying if he said he did not want her. But did she want him? Or did she merely feel obligated? So often she'd attempted to distract him, and so often he'd let her. He had no way of knowing if this was one of those times.

She frowned. "They are not here for you yet are they?"

" No," he said reluctantly. She took one of his hands from her shoulder, pressed his fingertips against her lips.

"Don't fret," she whispered kissing his fingertips, the palm of his hand. "I'll take care of you." she moved forward kissing his neck, sliding the fabric of his shirt off his form to continue her descent where he'd stopped her.

He opened his eyes against the gleam of candle, the feel of his arm going numb as Uduak lay against him, sound asleep. He slipped from her grasp gently, careful not to wake her and stood. She squirmed again, frowned then settled. He examined her sleeping for a long moment, how she lay mouth slightly agape, snoring softly, both her arms loosely crossed over her stomach.

Redressing as quietly as he could he slipped out of the room, down the hall to where Ngozi slept. He opened the door the boy's room and eased inside careful not to wake him.

The covers stirred, then fell to the side, revealing a grey, black spotted wolf pup. The pup glanced up at Connor with eyes the color of amber, then jumped from the bed to pounce about Connor's feet, nipping playfully at his fingers.

_Ngozi. _Connor kneeled beside the bed, hoping the boy had decided to play hid and seek; only to find he was not there, neither was he in the closet.

Still excited the wolf pup ran to the window seal, and with black spotted paws began to hit the partly opened window.

Connor sighed heavily, and walked to the open window. A soft blow of wind streamed in cooling the room. He glanced down out of the window, expecting to see Ngozi hanging from the frame, knowing he'd had taken to climbing the trees and the houses, against Uduak's wishes, following Connor's actions as she jump from obstacle to obstacle.

_Creak. _

He turned suddenly, catching just a glimpse of the figure before it leapt. Reaching out with both hands he grabbed the leaping figure seconds before they could collide.

" I almost got you," Ngozi said as Connor held him still.

" You almost did," Connor said sitting Ngozi down.

" Fenrir gave me away," Ngozi said growling at the wolf pup, who whined and cowered behind Connor's legs.

" Ngozi, I most go," Connor said turning the boy's attention back to the task at hand.

" Where are you going now?" He asked.

" With the Assassin's," Connor said, " You must-"

" Take care of Mother, I know," he said. " I will." Ngozi paused, then glanced down, his hazel eyes searching the floor beside his bare feet before asking warily, " Why does Mother cry when you leave?"

Connor furrowed his eyebrows at the boy, his unspoken question hanging in the air.

Ngozi nodded, finally beginning understanding after so long with Connor, his father's unspoken ques.

" She cries and then she makes tea and for a little while she stops, then she starts again. She thinks I cannot see her, but I do. Her and Grandmother Bri argue all the time, she says that Mother should stop drinking the tea because it's not good for her." Ngozi rubbed his head, a sign that he was trying to remember something he'd forgotten. " Poppy," he said suddenly. " That's what Grandmother called it. She-"

Connor pressed a hand to Ngozi's cheek silencing him. " All is well," he replied softly. " Do not worry."

Ngozi glanced away. " I'm not it's just-"

The sound of a knock at the door silenced Ngozi's words. Connor stood knowing it was the Assassin's. Only they would arrive at such a late hour.

" Fath-" Ngozi began, when Connor bent down to take the boy in his arms, hugging him close. He was getting bigger and bigger each day; soon he would tower over the other children.

A roaster croaked in the yard, signaling the start of a new day.

_Six…my son is six today…_Connor thought as he sat the boy down. Red faced and embarrassed Ngozi took a few awkward steps back. _A year older than I was when I lost my mother…_

" Six," Connor said softly pressing his hand to Ngozi's messy hair covered head.

" Yes," Ngozi said softly.

" Connor." He glanced towards the door to see Aveline standing at the door her face filled with urgency. " I am sorry but we need your help."

" Of course," he said following her out the door, pausing for half a second to glance back at Ngozi, still red faced, glaring down at his feet, the wolf pup beside him whimpering for attention.

_He is angry…_Connor knew it was because he was yet again leaving. Yet like his mother, Ngozi would say nothing, convinced this was for the best.

He started to call Ngozi's name, if nothing else to have the boy look up, so that he could see his son's eyes before he left. Connor never knew when each night would be his last. But the insistent calling of his name stopped him.

Regretfully he turned from the sight of Ngozi and continued down the stairs once again back into the madness.

* * *

><p><strong>Hey guys back with the sequel to Chasing the Moon. I'll be transferring from a community college to a large campus ( USC) cough cough. Go Gamecocks! So hopefully I'll have enough time to at least update this fanfic every 2-3 weeks. Setting Goals, yay! <strong>

**Anyway I plan on making this fanfic one that dives into the negative and at times positive aspects of Connor and Uduak's relationship. ( You know like normal couples) and the strain that Connor continuing his work will have on their life and relationship. Because lets face it guys, it can't always be cuddles, sex, puppies and rainbows. These guys are going to get hit with a lot. And if you've read the bio ( hope I did not give to much away) they will be facing a potential loss of a child, racism, the outside influences and feelings of others. **

**Connor is going to see a side of Uduak he's seen before, but does not like, and likewise, Uduak is going to see a side of Connor that is likely to scare the hell out of her. **

**Also if you guys haven't already noticed, I will do a lot of switching back and forth between other characters that are not Uduak. So she will not be the primary narrator of the story. **

**Info: **

**Petticoat- An article of clothing worn by women that is to be worn under a skirt or a dress. It was usually worn by 18th century women to give the skirt above it a fashionable shape. Hence the reason why most of their skirts appear so large. **

**Shift- Also called a chemise, also a part of the undergarments of 18th century women, was a simple garment ( 18th century version of a t-shirt) worn under the corset and petticoat. **

**Stay- or a corset was used to both straighten and shape the torso of women ( and some men), into the desired shape of a V. They were usually very tight, and uncomfortable. But hey beauty hurts...* Fun Fact* George Washington wore stays a child, that is how he achieved his sloping pulled back shoulders* **

**Slave Auctions- Very common in the 18th century, they were usually held in wide open spaces or the confides of warehouses and displayed slaves ( usually Africans) in the open naked or poorly dressed to be examined and picked over like livestock, for the highest bidders. **

**Yes I threw Aveline in there-no I am not sorry. Will their be shipping? I don't know...as if I have a plan when I write this stuff. Pfffew! **

**GIVE ME YOUR FEEDBACK! **


	2. Beast

**Hi. Another Chappy for you! **

**Enjoy guys! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed 3. I just enjoy messing with the story lines! **

**Read. Review. Enjoy all that jazz. **

* * *

><p><strong>Ngozi <strong>

Fenrir woke Ngozi the next morning, as he did almost every morning by licking him, and bouncing up and down on his chest. Ngozi was half asleep. The book he'd been reading the night before, _Prose Elda_ was tucked neatly under his pillow. He'd started reading it a few weeks before Fenrir was born, despite everyone's protest that it was too large and complicated a book for someone as young as him to be reading.

But he read anyway, making it a point to underline the verses he did not understand to ask his father and mother when they were not busy. They did not seem to mind that he much preferred books of Greeks Gods and Goddesses, and heroic tales of Odin and Beowolf, over the books the other children were reading about fairies and stupid women who could not keep up with their shoes. After all, most of the books he had, he'd gotten off his Father's shelf in the Manor.

It was from the tales of Odin and his Sons that he'd gotten the idea to name Fenrir, the runt of Obi's latest litter.

_" __Just wait," _he'd told his Mother as he held the frail, sickly pup in his arms, _" He'll grow up to be a big strong wolf like Fenrir in the stories, and it'll take more than a hundred men to stop him." _

It was from that day on that Ngozi called the wolf by the name Fenrir, and while he was still small for a pup, Ngozi had no doubt he'd grow up to be bigger than even Obi or any of the other wolves.

" Fenrir," Ngozi said holding the still bouncing wolf pup still, " Calm down." Almost immediately Fenrir fell still, his bushy grey tail the only thing shaking behind him. " Do you want to go outside."

Fenrir's tail quickened.

" Go. Go."

The wolf jumped from the bed then out of the open door and down the hall.

Ngozi could hear his mother opening the door and letting him out, then the loud footsteps of someone as they walked in. It was not his father, because he never made any noise when he walked, not even in the woods, surrounded by dried leaves and sticks. It was a skill Ngozi hoped to one day learn, but hadn't yet succeeded in doing so.

He would practice now, he decided, since he was temporary rid of Fenrir who would blow his cover. He slipped from his bed and gently lowered himself onto the floor, already having partly memorized which sections of the floor creaked the loudest.

It was not his Mother he was hiding from, but Brianna. For someone so old she had wonderful hearing.

He made it to the top of the stairs, where he could hear part of the conversation below.

" Well pups don't stay pups forever." It was Dr. Lyle's voice. He sounded concerned. " He'll be big one day."

Dr. Lyle had been coming to the house, more and more, and whenever he came around, Ngozi had to leave the room, by the request of his mother. He always wondered what they talked about, and wanted to know if any of it was about the poppy tea that made his mother happy.

" I am quite aware doctor," his mother said. " I presume you come with news?"

" Well yes," Dr. Lyle said clearing his throat. " I have been studying these past few weeks on your condition. As there are few books or resources available on the subject," he paused, Ngozi could hear the ruffling of papers. "Your birth of Ngozi, was difficult, and the fact that the both of you made it out alive, is a miracle. But I fear that his birth has left your womb weakened. You are very welcome to continue to try as you already are, but it is very unlikely you will birth another healthy child. Although the odds present a possibility of success, you will likely continue to have more failures before that happens."

A long silence past in the room, in which Ngozi could hear everything, his mother's calm breathing, and the breath of Dr. Lyle, the birds singing outside the window, his own heart thumping in his chest. He feared that they might even be able to hear him in the silence, until his mother spoke again.

" I understand," she said softly.

"I implore you to tell Connor of the-"

The wood creaked as someone stood, Ngozi could only guess it was his mother.

" How much do I owe you Doctor." The sound of money in a bag rattled across the house.

" Udua-" Dr. Lyle began.

" I insist," her voice sounded flat and lifeless. It scared Ngozi to hear his mother sound that way, when she was always so cheerful, and happy, even when she cried, she was always smiling.

He understood little of what they were saying, but it still concerned him that something was making her upset.

_" __Take care of your mother…" _

So far he wasn't doing a very good job.

" I will tell him."

" I am sorry, Uduak," Dr. Lyle said. The door opened, and the sound of Fenrir's footsteps echoed across the floor. He bolted up the stairs to take his place beside Ngozi, a bloody rabbit locked in his jaw.

Ngozi stood from his crouched position and walked down the stairs, to where his mother stood in the kitchen, hands folded over her mouth, as she muzzled her own cries.

" Mother," he called.

She did not turn. Her shoulders and hands shook.

He called her again, and this time she turned, smiling, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

She bent down in front of him, taking his hands in her own. " My little wolf," she said her voice breaking. Her eyes were still red, and tear filled. " Are you hungry? I'll make you something to eat."

" Fenrir brought a hare," Ngozi said beckoning to the wolf pup still holding the hare.

She did not look at the wolf, nor the hare, but continued to glance at Ngozi. " Then hare soup it is." She touched his cheek, " Go, help Brianna heat water for your bath, everyone is expecting you to be nice and clean today."

She let him go and stood turning her back on him. Usually he would argue with her, try and find every reason why he should not take a bath, but he could not find the strength.

" I love you Mother," he said instead, knowing that always made her smile.

Sure enough she turned and grinned at him. " I love you too, Ngozi." But even through her gleaming teeth and her crinkled lips, she still looked very, very sad.

**Myriam**

They stood, crowded on the sandy press of the river, dresses and shirts bellowing in the mid-spring air, watching as Father Timothy and his assistant, a young man from Boston stood, Ngozi between them, in the rushing water of the river. Their Sunday pants soaked to the thighs.

" Today, brothers and sisters, fellow children of God," Father Timothy said aloud, " Is an amazing milestone. Today, we come together, to celebrate and commemorate Ngozi's Christening. As we all know, it is the Christ who said, let the children come to me, so that they shall be blessed. On this day Ngozi, one of the youngest among us, has heeded his call. Let us take a lesson from the children of God, and as always, we give thanks and praise for the remarkable gift of Ngozi's life."

Myriam glanced over, at Uduak standing at the head of the crowd, her hands folded at her chest as she watched Father Timothy take Ngozi gently in his arms and dunk him in the water.

Ngozi arose, wet and stoic, his dress clothes hanging off of him like a saggy mop. He was calmer than the other children had been when they'd received their baptisms. Most came up flailing and grasping at Father Timothy's clothes as if the man had attempted to drown them, instead of save their souls.

"It is done, may the Father and the Son bless you dear child." Father Timothy said pressing a damp hand to Ngzoi's wet hair.

The wolf pup bolted in after them then, having torn his way from his holds, barking and whimpering in excitement, splashing water all over Ngozi and Father Timothy. A roar of laughs and claps arose from the crowd and Ngozi slung through the water to the shore, where a group of homesteaders followed patting Ngozi on the shoulder, and hugging him.

" It is nice, no?"

" Norris," Myriam called turning to greet him. He was grinning in only that way that Norris could grin, his large hands still dusty with gunpowder from his explosives. " I thought you weren't coming?"

He drew her in close, wrapping his arm about her waist. She did not pull back away from him, as she would have normally done, but instead glanced down at his exposed arm. She examined the muscles there, thick and veined from mining all day. It brought her a small ping of pleasure and pride that she was only woman on the homestead that knew what his arms felt like when they were wrapped around her form.

" Would not miss this for anything," Norris said.

" Are you sure it has nothing to do with Prudence making apple pie," Myriam said

" Only half I think," Norris said letting her go to trail over to Ngozi. Bending down he picked up the frowning boy and spun him around in a full circle.

" That was exciting yes?" Norris asked sitting Ngozi down.

Still frowning Ngozi looked away. " No," he mumbled.

" He dislikes anything that reminds him of a bath," Uduak said.

" Can I change now?" Ngozi asked.

" Yes. But put on the suit Ellen made you, and hurry back."

" I will," Ngozi said trailing away from the crowd.

" When did he get so big?" Prudence asked. " A year ago he was no bigger than my Hunter, now he seems ready to tower above him.

" They grow so fast," Uduak said.

" Sooner than we know they will be men, and we grandmothers," Prudence said laughing.

Uduak smiled, " I feel that way now," she said, " One would think by the way Ngozi stomps about the house, giving orders and trying to care for me, he's already a man full grown."

Myriam couldn't help but smile, what she'd said was true. "There are some days," Myriam said, "that I think he catches more game than I do."

" And quite the little charmer," Ellen said. "Every Wednesday he brings me flowers. He thinks I don't know. I look forward to it every week."

" Such a helpful lad," Diana said. " Just the day before last I was saying how much I needed a certain herb, and before I could go get it, he'd already brought a whole score over. I would hate to imagine how things would have turned around without the little man around. He's a little mini Connor he is."

Myriam watched Uduak's lips turn in a flattered smile. " I did not know he meant so much to you all."

" Of course," Prudence said, " Children are so few here in the homestead, every little soul is precious to us."

" Speaking of precious souls," Catherine said, " Should we be expecting anymore little ones anytime soon Uduak. The homestead needs daughters."

The women's faces turned to Uduak then. Blush crept up onto her cheeks, and her eyes darted to the ground.

" No…no…I could not possibly…Ngozi is handful enough, besides and I am too old."

" Old!" Ellen exclaimed. " If you are old then, I am ancient. Don't be ridiculous."

" Yes of course," Uduak said. " It is just…conceiving children is harder than I imagined…"

" Say no more," Catherine said. " We all know so very well."

A small smile brushed Uduak's lips before disappearing. Everyone trailed away then, distracted by the call of Father Timothy to gather in Mile's End to enjoy a feast for the community. Myriam started to trail behind them, but stopped when she noticed Uduak still stood behind the crowd, glancing towards the direction of her home.

" Uduak," Myriam called. " Is something wrong?"

Uduak turned to face Myriam, her eyebrows crinkled, her mouth set in a frown.

Almost immediately Uduak's worried look was replaced with one of pleasant surprise. "Everything smells so wonderful," she said. "I cannot wait to see what everyone pre-"

" Uduak…" Myriam called softly. Something was wrong and Uduak was trying to cover it up.

_God you are horrible at hiding your feelings. _Myriam thought. Uduak turned so that she was facing away from Myriam.

" We should go get something to eat befor-"

" What's wrong?" Myriam blurted before she could stop herself. It had been so long since she'd asked Uduak that question. They were not nearly as close as they were before. Somehow in the mist of all the confusions, the secrets and lies, a wall had been put between them. Now as Myriam glanced over that barrier, she saw just how alone, frightened and desperate Uduak really looked.

" There is no-"

" Uduak, you are my best friend. I wish for there to be no more complications between us…if something is wrong you can tell me."

She was speaking to much, Myriam knew this, yet she could not stop. Her words were true either way. Uduak was her best friend and closest friend, alongside Prudence and Norris.

" Whatever it is you need. You can tell me."

" Humor me Myriam?" Uduak said softly.

" What?"

Uduak clapped her hands. "Now shall we go eat?" She sounded cheery, and carefree, the very imitation of a woman without a problem in the world. Uduak walked ahead of Myriam, without another word, leaving the unanswered question hanging in the air.

**Uduak **

Everyone was at the mile's end when I arrived, already settled with plates of food. Pies of beef and pork, strained vegetables and soup, fresh bread and rum littered the tables, filling the room with the satisfying smell of food. The homesteads, spoke in small groups, lingered around the bar or danced in the space between the tables, while sailors walked in and out, pipes of tobacco in their hands.

" Oi," Catherine called, " You just missed Connor. Spirited off by the children he was. He asked where you were."

"They are so fond of him," Corrine said admirably.

I made a plate consisting of soup and bread, fearing I could not stomach anything else, and trailed outside, where Connor played with the children, rounding them up one by one as they ran from him, and placing them in a makeshift circle in the dirt, dodging the fingers of the children within the circle as they reached for the bits of clothe hanging from his pockets. It was likely a game of their design, and it surprised me none that he was playing with them. Unlike the other adults, and on occasions myself, Connor did not scold the children for being children.

Perhaps they sensed, like themselves, that in some way he was also a child deep inside. Striped of the childhood he once had, peaceful and full of whimsy, replaced with hate and the raw need for vengeance.

He let one of the children grab a cloth from his pocket, then turned to snatch up the boy before he could run, only to have the other children pile on him in bunches, like sacks of potatoes, falling in his arms, on his shoulders, around his feet. He mocked struggle, falling to his knees under the pile of twisting limbs, before lifting his hands in surrender.

I couldn't help but smile. Still beneath my smile, I felt nothing but sadness, and guilt.

_When this is all over…when he head home, to the place that is most familiar, what will happen then? _

_I have to tell him… I have to burden him with the knowledge of his lost children, of my damaged womb…_I felt joy after Ngozi's birth, the joy of knowing that perhaps I was like other women, able to enjoy the choice of child birth, but now that joy had been stricken from me.

Three. The number of miscarriages I'd counted in the year since I'd returned to the homestead. Tiny lumps of flesh and blood that signaled yet another lose, sadness. All occurring while he was away.

Only Brianna knew, for it was she who'd cleaned and collected what remained, held me in my bouts of despair.

The third was the worst. The body of the child had already begun to form, the tiny arms and legs, fingers and toes, the shape of eyelid nose and mouth. And so much blood. I held back screams during those times, fighting the pain, promising myself that I would tell Connor, and failing when I actually got the chance.

Now the soothing dregs of opium lashed my tea, and settled my moods, being the only thing that could contain my anger, sadness and guilt.

When desired moved him to want me as truly and passionately as any man could want a woman, I did not deny him, nor myself of taking all he could give. Afterwards I drank the potions and draughts Brianna once gave to me secretly in the past, rendering my womb barren and useless. I could not stand the thought of yet another child, nor the sight of their blood and flesh as my useless body expelled them.

I knew unlike before, when Connor finally learned the truth, there would be no forgiveness from him. After all they were his children too, and the despair was rightfully his to partake in.

" Uduak." I glanced up.

" Connor," I called. He looked angry. "What is wrong?"

" Slavers," Connor said.

" Here?" I asked moving to stand. He held his hand up stopping me. "How do you know?"

" Ngozi found them. I am going."

" Alone? Maybe you should call-"

He started to walk away from me.

" Connor…at the very least take someone with you. Perhaps call for one of the Assassins and-"

"I do not have time to waste," his voice was firm, a tone away from a shout. I knew this part of him, frustration he displayed when someone got in his way. Regardless of whom they were. In that moment I forgot the decision I'd made to not stand in his way. I approached him, angry and reckless.

" What of your son?" I asked, "What of us? If something happens to you we-"

" That matters little right now," he said placing a hand on my shoulder and moving me out of the way. " Account for the children. I will handle all else."

I clamped my mouth shut then, and glanced away finding I could not meet his gaze.

" Yes…" I said. " Yes of course."

Nothing more had to be said. He turned from me and headed to the wood, weapons in hand.

**Ngozi **

" Let go!" Ngozi demanded Nela, one of the orphaned, once slave child, that his father had brought to the homestead just months before. They lived in a newly built orphanage up the hill, close to the church, ran by a fat old lady named Miss Hans, who always smelled of milk and lemons.

Nela said nothing. She never did. Instead she pulled him harder, trying to lead him back towards the homestead.

At first Ngozi assumed her silence was because she was stupid. After all she was his age, and he could talk, as well as the other kids, but she couldn't. But it wasn't until his mother explained that tragic circumstances sometimes made people mute, and that Nela was a victim of such circumstances.

During lessons with Father Timothy and Miss Hans, instead of writing she often drew pictures on small pieces of papers. They were often pictures of animals, rabbits and bears, wolfs and goats, which held little to no meaning to him, but seem to, by the way she smiled while drawing them, mean the world to her.

The adults thought, just as Ngozi had at first, that she was stupid, gone of mind, because she never wrote, or read when they asked her to. But Ngozi knew differently. He knew she would write he'd seen her do it numerous times, when they were away from the homestead sitting in the wood, Obi beside them sleeping or whining for attention, she wrote him notes.

Once against his mother's orders, he'd asked Nela why she refused to speak. She'd drawn him a picture, of men and women standing in a crowd looking up at two darkened bodies hanging from trees. The faces were unrecognizable but Ngozi understood that the lightened figures on the ground were supposed to be white people, and the figures hanging from trees blacks. Among the crowd just in the middle was a small girl, sitting on the ground and crying.

Ngozi understood, then perfectly without words.

Afterwards she'd asked him to read one of his books to her; and he had, stopping and skipping words neither or they knew, reminding himself to ask his mother or father later. He'd stopped, when they got to the part where the hero saved a fair maiden in trouble.

"Just like the hero in the story," he said to Nela when she'd nudged him to continue reading. "I'll protect you. You and mother," he'd said.

Nela had grinned at that, and then tried to hold his hand, but he'd pulled back embarrassed.

" I'm not going back," Ngozi said. "I have to follow father."

Alerted Nela shushed him, and then leapt into a bush pulling him behind her. They settled, quietly, and she pointed ahead through a hole in the bush.

Four white men sat camped in the hill below, a fire burning in the middle of them, above the fire the cooking carcass of a rabbit. Beside the men sat a metal cage, atop a wagon, inside five black men, and a woman and child. They looked dirty, and starved, and not at all happy.

A figure arose from the bushes beside where the men sat.

_Father…._

His father attacked, drawing his tomahawk over his head and into the shoulder of the nearest man.

Even from where he sat Ngozi could hear the crunch as the man's bones cracked under the strain of the tomahawk, smell the blood as it poured from the man's wounds. Ngozi flinched despite himself, then turned to Nela who watched seemly unaffected her eyes aloof, mouth set in a frown.

Nela stood as his father finished the last man.

" Nela," Ngozi called reaching for her. She ran before he could stop her, down the hill towards his father. Ngozi took off after her, reaching for her hand as she slid down the hill.

His father turned momentarily surprised at first, then angry.

" Ngozi," he called. " What are you doing?"

He reached for Ngozi, blood still on his hands, staining his clothes and face. Ngozi took a step back, remembering the sight of his always gentle, kind and caring father, doing the very thing his mother always said was wrong.

" Ngozi…"

" No," Ngozi said pulling back again. He took Nela by the hand, and pulled her away from the cage.

He ran then, Nela to one side, Fenrir to the other, his entire form shaking.

**Connor **

Connor saw Uduak before he did Ngozi. She stood placing wet clothes on the line.

" Warren's goat got out again," she said when she finally noticed him. "He ate through your best shirt." She held up the tattered clothe and frowned. " I just ordered this shirt too. I'll talk to Ellen tomorrow and-is something wrong? You look-?"

" Ngozi," Connor said softly just as he caught sight of him walking from the house, bow in hand, arrows in his quiver.

" Ngozi."

Ngozi paused in his movements, but did not turn to face Connor. He sat right where he once stood, folding his legs.

Connor took a step forward, and then another and another until he stood beside Ngozi.

" Mother says those who kill for unjust reasons are monsters," Ngozi said finally after a long moment, his hands moving to pick up another arrow, only to set it back down again.

" I did not kill those men for unjust reasons," Connor said softly. It did no good to speak to Ngozi as if he were a simple child. He was too well taught, by observing the actions and words of the adults around him, taking in everything much like a rag, whether he understood it all or not.

" I know you are not a monster father…" Ngozi said. " But…" He paused, his fingers twisted about the grass near his bare feet.

" What is it?"

" Grandmother," Ngozi said finally after a long moment, " She says, that those who kill, no matter the reason, are beast." Ngozi shook his head, wisps of loose, hair falling from the once neat ponytail Uduak had put in earlier that day. " I do not understand. You killed them father. All of them." He glanced up at Connor then, his hazel eyes searching, large and confused, as if asking him to deny all that he'd seen, to scold him for a lie, when he was telling the truth. In that moment, he looked more like to a child to Connor than he'd ever had before, tiny and weak

" Are you a beast father?" the question spoken from Ngozi's quivering lips, was as sincere and confused as his gaze.

Something within Connor lurched, sending a dull ache radiating though his chest.

_How can I even begin to explain? The complex nature of what I do? _

He reached out for Ngozi, to hold him, or to scold him, he did not know. Ngozi flinched, before Connor could reach him, and Connor withdrew his hand.

_He is afraid of me…my son is…_

" Ngozi…" Connor began.

" Dinner," Uduak's voice broke through Connor's words.

Ngozi stood. " Mother," he said. " I should go," then he was gone, and Connor did not try to stop him again.

In his place sat his bow, arrows, his shoes and his lingering question.

_ " __Are you a beast father?" _

_Am I?_ Connor thought as he watched Ngozi approach Uduak, who bent down examining his face and hands, before letting him pass through the doors.

She glanced up smiling, her hands twisting about a cloth, the veins in her hands withering about each other like roots.

" What is wrong?" She asked Connor as he approached.

" Ngozi…he…" Connor glanced over at her, taking in her worried eyes, and frowning mouth. "The slavers. He saw me kill them."

Her frown deepened. " That…"

" I will speak to him," Connor said placing a hand on her small shoulder. " Do not worry."

" You always say that," she replied touching his hand softly. " Yet I always seem to worry. Give him time, after all he knows very little about what you do, and like you, he hates surprises."

" He is old enough to know the truth," Connor said.

" Connor I don't think-" Uduak said starting to argue, stopping to glance over his shoulder.

He turned in the direction of her gaze to see a carriage coming down the dirt path towards them.

" Were you expecting company?" Connor asked.

" No," Uduak said.

The driver of the carriage a skinny man wearing a curled white wig and glasses sped to the carriage doors, attempting to open them when the doors themselves opened.

" Emily?" Uduak said stepping forward, examining the blond headed woman clothed in an elaborate pink satin dress.

She glanced up, revealing her powered face, and painted heart shaped lips.

" Oh Uduak darling," she said rushing forward, nearly pushing over the carriage driver. He ran forward clutching her parcel, mumbling something about the sun and her complexion. Connor watched, half confused, half cautious as the woman pressed a gloved hand to Uduak's cheeks, then leaned forward and kissed Uduak on the mouth.

Surprise prompted action then as Connor stepped forward, ready to pull the strange woman away.

The woman pulled back before he could reach her, patting Uduak's cheek. "Let's not get carried away dear. There are people watching." It is such a delight to see you. How long as it been? Two, no three years?"

"Over ten" Uduak said rubbing her lips against her sleeve, leaving an imprint of red against the white cloth.

Her painted eyebrows furrowed. "Really?"

" I have not seen you since I left Boston, and that was a year after your wedding" Uduak said.

" Oh that," she snorted. " I was a drunk as a sailor," she said. " I hardly remember any of it."

" I could tell," Uduak said rolling her eyes.

The woman pushed Uduak gently aside and strolled towards the door. "Anyway dear, I am here on important matters. Business proposals and the like." Connor stopped her ascent up the stairs, stepping in front of her. He did not know this woman, did her trust her.

Uduak rushed forward, " Emily, this is Connor Kenway. Connor, Emily Johnson."

Emily's mouth made an O shape. " Is this the lucky lad that took you from Boston? Why he is not at all as I imagined."

" Yes this is him."

She reached out with both hands and took Connor by the arms; he stood stiff as she examined him head to toe with blue eyes and a frowning mouth. Connor leaned back, making no show of hiding his discomfort. The woman smelled strange, like the perfumes Uduak wore, combined with whisky and tobacco, and something else he could not quite place. "I'll have you know Mr. Connor Kenway, any friend of Uduak's is a friend of mine." Then leaning forward before he could stop her, she kissed him full on the mouth.

* * *

><p><strong>Hey guys. How long has been? I've recently moved for college so things have been really crazy and hectic. My new place doesn't have internet readily available so uploading has been really hard.<strong>

**Anyways here's a new chapter. Still introducing characters, developing Ngozi's character...yada yada yada. **

**Stay tuned. I've been collaborating with a friend of mine, and we're working on a mini comic to go with this Fanfic. I'll be posting the first couple pages soon. So look out for the announcement. Would really love to say more, but I literally have 15 minutes left to work in the community lab at my new place. So until next time guys. **

**Feedback seriously wanted! **


	3. Delightful

**This chapter is brought to you by pure procrastination of college work. Woo! Oh that and donuts. I freakin LOVE donuts. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own AC3 or any of its awesome characters. **

**Enjoy!**

**Long Chapter ahead...**

* * *

><p><strong>Uduak <strong>

Connor pulled back gasping, glancing at Emily as if she were a new sort of fish he'd never seen before.

Emily on the other hand had moved on another matter entirely.

" So shall we sit down, have some tea, talk business matters."

" Yes. Go on inside, make yourself at home. I'll be right there," I said opening the door for her. She stepped inside without another word. I turned to Connor.

He still looked flustered and bewildered, and just a bit angry. The paint from Emily's lips had stained his lips red, and smeared on his cheek from his having pulled away. Gathering my sleeve over my hand I touched it to his face wiping the stain from his cheek, then his lips.

" How do you know that woman?" He asked.

" Stand still," I said. " We lived-in the brothel together when I was first getting my training as a courtesan. We were best friends at the time, until I finished my training and went out into the field. Then we became competitors."

He pulled away from me, gripping my wrist to make me stop rubbing. " You two seem close now."

" Yes well, time and similar circumstances will do that," I said. " Can you manage to be polite until she leaves? If she wishes to talk business it will be with you."

He nodded. I led him back inside to where Emily stood examining my home with interest. "Quint place you have here Uduak. Although I expected something a bit more elegant for a woman of your tastes." She looked over at Connor. He made a point of walking past her to the living room.

" To business then," she said following him. She sat down on the couch closet to him, and he moved to the furthest side of the room. " Have you considered working in a more intimate establishment," she asked him. Her carriage driver arose next to her then, holding my tea pot and china. She took a sip, lowered her cup awaiting Connor's answer, when he said nothing she took another sip and replied, "Shame, I know a handful of women, and dare I say men who would pay quite the pretty pound to see you naked. That would be an interesting treat, compared to what many of the girls have to endure. We absolutely love green boys with stern muscles, and shapely forms why I'm quite sure that when you pull down your pants everything stays-"

I cleared my throat. "You came to discuss business Emily."

She turned to me, suddenly aware. "Do you have children Uduak?"

" A son," I said.

"Delightful," she said clapping her hands. "What is his name?"

" Ngozi." I said. " Today was his baptism."

" Baptism? Delightful. We will discuss the matter of gifts later. But business first. "She cleared her throat and adjusted in the chair. " As you already know Uduak, my newest husband, Mr. J.T. Johnson whom I love very dearly, as well as myself are successful businessmen in our own right. Me with my lovely newly inherited brothel, James with his bathhouses. Despite what you may believe, I do find places like this to be quite quaint and lively, and surveying the land, I do believe this would be a perfect place to expand our businesses. I am sure the people of this homestead would enjoy a bathhouse, not to mention the sailors and noblemen and women in their ships. Why we could set it up right next to the inn."

" That's an excellent idea Emily," I said.

" Thank you. I thought of it just before we left last night to come here. I was so excited and I just had to come and tell you." She turned again to Connor, "With your permission of course. James will pay for everything, including the land as well as any fees you require, even a monthly portion from our own earnings. It will not be very big of course, and we can probably connected the brothel to it."

Connor stepped forward, "The bathhouse I can permit, but the brothel I will not."

Emily pressed a hand to her chest and gasped surprised. " Why sir, I do believe you are forgetting that such great woman as myself and Uduak here were founded from such establishments and remain to be today."

Connor folded his arms across his chest, a sign that his stance on the matter would be unmovable despite anything Emily had to throw his way. " You were both forced to sell your bodies for money, slaves to men who sought to use and discard you, as if you were trash."

" I can assure you, we had a choice. It was either serve or starve, as many of the girls who work under me will tell you. Let's us not forget dear Connor, this is a world of men we live in, and we are but women in it. Some of us, must strive to get by in whatever way we can," she did not sound angry, nor agitated as she said these word, merely informative. She glanced over at me, " Judging by your lack of knowledge I am sure Uduak has not told you the stories of her youth. I can assure you, she had not learned all that she knows by mere chance." She clapped her hands suddenly, as if the matter were a mosquito. "Either way I respect your wishes. Bathhouse it is then?"

" Mother."

We all turned to Ngozi, dressed in his night clothes, a book tucked under one arm.

Emily stood and walked towards him, hands outstretched and Ngozi as wary as his father took a step back as if to run. Bending down Emily took the boy in her arms and hugged him close.

" You must be Ozi."

" Ngozi," Ngozi corrected.

" You are just as handsome as Uduak described. I could just dunk you in my tea." She pulled both is cheeks.

" Who are you?" Ngozi asked pulling back firmly.

" I'm your aunt Emily," she said. " Did Uduak not tell you about me?"

" No," Ngozi said bluntly. He looked over his shoulder at me.

" Oh delightful," She reached out to pinch Ngozi's cheeks again, he pulled back. "After all this is over you simply must come with me to meet my son. He's about your age. A little charmer he is, oh just you wait, the girls will be waiting in lines of threes."

" I don't want girls," Ngozi said.

" Now off to bed you," Emily said pushing Ngozi along, ignoring his protests. "There is much to do tomorrow. Connor you simply must introduce me to everyone here. You do have a room prepared for me right?"

" There is an In-" Connor began, I stepped in front of him.

" I have a spare room. Just allow me a few minutes to prepare it for you."

" Delightful," Emily said. "Simply delightful." She took the book out of Ngozi's hands. "You want me to read you a bedtime story? How delightful, why did you not say something sooner?"

" I don't want you to read…" Ngozi began but Emily was already pushing him up the stairs.

" I do not like her," Connor said bluntly as I faced my mirror, brushing my hair.

" She takes a little getting used to," I said. " She means well."

" By well you mean what?" He asked.

I set down my brush and turned to face him. " You are quite grumpy tonight. Are you still worried about Ngozi? Or is it Emily that's bothering you?"

He started to pace. I stood up, blocked his way. When he stopped I reached up with both hands and cupped his face gently between my palms. I was still getting used to the feeling of his scalp between my fingertips, when once there was hair there. " You always tell me not to worry," I said. " Now it is my turn to tell you. Whatever it may be, do not worry." I said, "I'll protect you from the tyranny named Emily."

Something like a small smile touched the ends of his lips, and I grinned. "Was that a smile I saw?"

He frowned and looked away," No."

" Yes it was," I insisted. " A little baby smile." I pulled his cheeks. " Do it again. You never smile. You look more handsome when you do."

He moved his face out of my reach. "I did not know," he said changing the subject, "You knew so many people."

" Yes, well," I said suddenly feeling a little bit uncomfortable with his inquiries. The less he knew about my life before the homestead, and the people I knew, and who knew me, the better. A well versed courtesan," I said, " Is a well-paid courtesan. It was always good to know people in case I needed them in the future."

" You seem happy…that she is here," Connor said slowly.

" Emily?" I asked.

He nodded.

" I am happy," I admitted. " That she came. For a moment there, I forgot about her, about the wonderful people I knew before I came here. So quick I was to drop them all, and not look back." I ran my hands across the dress I'd just taken off. We always were able to fit one another's clothes. Back before we became competitors, we traded dresses like scholars traded books. Making bets to see who could attract the most attention wearing the same dress, delighting when a noblemen or a General actually stopped in their path to glance our way, their eyes gleaming with desire and need.

Now that I looked back, I realized just how childish we were. We went about life like a game, a game where we held all the important cards.

" Do you-regret leaving them?" Connor asked softly.

The question caught me by surprise.

" At times," I replied truthfully, seeing no reason to lie to him. "But then I think of all that I have here…and all regrets just leave me. Why so many question all of the sudden? What's wrong with you?" I touched his forehead checking his temperature. Everything felt normal.

" It is nothing," he said.

Brianna appeared in the doorway, not bothering to knock, she never did. She sat down a tray filled with chamomile tea and honey. From where I stood I could see just how frail she suddenly looked, not at all as she once was.

"Brianna, you should rest, you've been at it all day." I said.

She glanced up at me; her brow furrowed, but said nothing more as she walked out the room shutting the door behind her. I knew that to be her signal that she was retiring for the night. It pained me to see her always working so hard, but for some reason she refused to accept life any other way. To her idle hands were dead hands.

Perhaps constantly working and moving gave her motivation to keep going day by day, least she end up like Achilles, burdened with little to live for.

I drifted over to the cups Brianna had just set down, making it halfway there before Connor stopped me by grabbing the teapot before I could.

" What are you doing?" I asked.

He pulled the top off the teapot and smelled its contents, and then he took a sip.

"What is in this?"

" Chamomile," I said reaching to take the pot from him, he pulled it back away from me, " A little honey, sugar—"

" Poppy," he said.

" A little to help me sleep," I said. " Now give it here."

" No," he said grabbing my wrist. " Are you unwell? Why are you in need of such strong medicines?"

I pulled my hand back. To some extent I was unwell. No matter how much I tried to hide it. Even so I never was good at hiding things from him.

"Can we not argue tonight?" I asked. "How about we talk about this tomorrow?"

" Is there something to talk about?" He asked insistent.

"Connor…" I sighed. "I'm starting to think you like seeing me angry."

A small insistent rap at the door caught both of our attentions, and I called out for the person to come in, already knowing it was Ngozi before he even opened the door.

" Aunt Emily fell asleep," he said.

" She-"

" In my bed," he continued.

" Bother," I said. I didn't know why I expected anything less. She probably came half drunk. "I'll take care of her."

I trailed to Ngozi's room where sure enough Emily was asleep, curled atop Ngozi's bed as if she owned it. I gently pushed her onto her side so she would not drown should she choose to vomit, then left her sleeping.

When I returned to my room, Ngozi was in my bed, Fenrir attempting to climb in after him.

"He sleeps on the floor," I said. Ngozi frowned, but did not argue. I could tell he was exhausted from the long day, and before I knew it he was fast asleep, his face pressed into my breast. I touched his hair, combing the tangled locks out of his face. "It's been a while since he was willing to sleep in the same bed with me," I said. "He thinks he's too grown up." But what he failed to realize was that no matter how old he got, he'd always be my little boy. "Are you not tired?" I called out to Connor, who hadn't moved. His gaze was fixed on Ngozi and me, his eyebrows furrowed.

When he said nothing I gave up trying to coax him and instead I closed my eyes and snuggled closer to Ngozi. Somehow without the tea or the poppy, sleep came much easier that night.

* * *

><p><strong>Connor <strong>

Both Uduak and Ngozi were messy sleepers, Connor realized this as he watched them shift and rearrange themselves in the bed, neither waking as they moved to adjust to one another's forms.

_My son…and his mother…_

Uduak was right; Connor had a lot of questions. All seemed to spring from his mouth before he could stop them, flowing like water. He knew so little about Uduak's past, or the people she once knew. Yet somehow it all seemed to come, piece by piece revealing one thing after another.

The woman named Emily had seemed surprised to find out that Uduak had left Boston and more so that she'd left because of Connor.

Cups still within reach he grabbed one. The liquid was still hot and steaming, and the medicines within the dark tea had risen to the top in a sheet of white. He opened the window and poured out the contents of the cups and the teapot.

When he finally went to bed, lying stilly on his back next to Uduak, sleep did not come easy, but it came. He slept with thoughts on his mind. Thoughts of what would come of the next day when he awoke, of what the assassin's had planned next. Each new thought falling into another until they stumbled into dreams.

He dreamt of his life in his village as a child, of his mother, and his people, and for a time he was happy. But like all his dreams, they eventually faded into nightmares, and soon he was faced once again with the death of his mother, the smell of smoke and burning flesh, then the faces of all the men he'd killed, each cursing his name as they fell.

The last death was that of Charles Lee, on that faithful day in the pub in Lexington.

Connor stabbed him, felt the bones in his chest give under his blade. Connor pulled back, releasing the blade, his gaze rising until it fell on Charles's face. Only instead of the face of Charles it was Uduak's face, her dead hazel eyes staring out at him, her blood dripping down the side of her mouth, staining her lips and chin.

He pulled himself back from the table, reached out for her as she fell from her chair, his arms prepped to grab her.

She fell into his arms, heavy and dead, her limps limp and lifeless. He shouted her name as he held her, patted her face as if to bring back the life in her cheeks.

Darkness descended upon him, blacker than ebony, blocking all his sight.

_"Life is not a fairytale. And there are no happy endings."_

His arms felt suddenly warm, and the once cold form molded within them was now hot. He glanced down at Uduak to see she was glowing, bright like the sun at first, transitioning into a warm orange, and then a vibrant red.

The color spread until it shot across her entire body, rising and rising until it consumed her.

She raised her head and glanced at him her eyes gray and lifeless.

" Connor?" Her mouth was black with blood.

He opened his mouth to say her name, yet the words would not come to him.

" Connor?"

Flame arose from her skin then, blazing and hot, burning, burning until she crumbled into ashes in his arms.

He screamed.

"Connor?" He opened his eyes to the sight of Uduak looming above him.

" Uduak?"

" You were tossing, and mumbling in your sleep. Were you having a nightma-"

He sat up, taking her by the shoulders and pulling her close.

He could feel her breath against his neck. Over her shoulder he could see Ngozi still sound asleep, on the bed next to him Fenrir.

She pulled away from him, her hands on both sides of his face, her eyes searching his.

" Are you alright?" she asked concerned. " Did you drink anymore of that tea?"

" No," he answered relief making him exhausted.

"No you aren't alright? Or no you did not drink the tea."

" No," he said again words failing him. He pulled back away from her grip to fall upon her lap, his ear pressed up against her stomach, arms wrapped around her form.

He expected for half a second for her to combust into flames again, before he remembered he was merely dreaming, as he had almost every night.

_"You will always be chasing butterflies…."_

She shifted and he tightened his arms around her, suddenly fearful she was going to leave. " Stay," he said. "Please. Do not leave." He realized his rambling was the result of being half asleep, and he did not care.

_Always at the end of it all…it's always you I come running to…_

Fingers threaded themselves through his hair, stretched over his scalp. He sighed releasing the tension in his shoulders and back.

"Shhh," Uduak cooed. "Sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

><p><strong>Myriam <strong>

Myriam examined Ngozi as he stood beside her, silent as the wind, a bow in hand, crouched so low in the tall grass even she was hard pressed to see him standing as close as she was. His face was a pentacle of concentration as he studied the deer, and suddenly Myriam was reminded of Connor.

_There is no doubt that he is Connor's son. _One had only to look at the boy's face to see the truth. Although still young, his face had taken on his father's solemn, firm look, and he tall for his age, as well as strong. His hair was loose and tangled, although Myriam had seen Uduak combing it that very morning, and decorated with elaborate braids of beads and feathers, the bangs falling over hazel eyes that matched Uduak's.

With the steady hand Ngozi shot, catching the deer in the side, inches from its heart. The deer took off running, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. Ngozi's frown deepened and his eyebrow twitched as she stood watching the deer with determined eyes.

" We should catch it before the wolves do," Myriam said standing with him.

He glanced over at her, his face unreadable before nodding and walking forward, whistling sharply as he cut across the path. A wolf pup the size of an adult dog arose then from the grass beside where they stood; tail wagging as he circled excitedly about Ngozi's feet.

Bending Ngozi pressed his fingertips to the patch of wet deer blood then held it up to the wolf's nose.

" Go Fenrir," he said and the wolf pup took off without hesitation.

Ngozi followed, dagger suddenly in hand.

Determined not to stand in his way Myriam followed closely behind observing.

The wolf pup barked as they approached the now dying deer, spread on its back huffing desperately as it's punctured lung struggled to breath air.

" It is suffering," Myriam found herself saying as she reached for her rifle. She would do the poor creature the honor of ending its misery. Ngozi touched her arm. She hesitated.

" I am sorry," he said resting a hand on the deer's neck gently. He lifted his blade, and the deer reacted seeing the gleam of metal sensing the danger. Ngozi whispered the the words Myriam had heard Connor say a hundred times after each hunt. She knew the meaning now, after asking him one day when her curiosity outweighed her caution.

" It means thank you," Connor had said. "Mother Nature has given us the gift of her children's life; we must thank her in return."

Now it would seem Ngozi was following in his father's footsteps.

Still soothing the struggling dying animal, Ngozi ran the blade of the knife against the deer's throat in a quick clean cut. All struggling stopped then as the animal died in his arms.

It was a long moment before the boy moved again, and Myriam waited.

When he finally stood he did so slowly, his eyes never leaving the deer's body.

" Will this make Mother happy?" He asked his voice soft.

It was a reoccurring question Ngozi often had, and a constant concern.

The matter of Uduak's happiness.

_Uduak you fool, you hide behind your mask of beauty and smiles, and you think no one notices how unhappy you are. _

Myriam spoke without thinking, " I am sure it will."

She saw Ngozi's shoulders perk up, his once balled fist loosen.

" I will get Grandmother Brianna to cook it in a pie. Mother loves pies." He grinned then, making his face appear more boy like, almost whimsical.

_He is going to be quite handsome when he is older, _Myriam thought. _ Like Connor…_

" Lets worry about how we are going to move this first," Myriam said beckoning to the deer laying on the ground. "Everything else can wait."

The smile he had disappeared then, replaced with a look of concentration. Myriam marveled silently at the transition, for she could remember Ngozi when he first arrived at the homestead. He was wild and unruly; he listened to no one and took nothing seriously. He ran the homestead causing mischief and acting more beast than little boy.

The other children did not take kindly to him, and he did not them, no matter how w hard they tried to grow to like him.

_Being around Connor has changed him. _Although he still had his wild boy like tendencies in his desire to be outside, and away from the confides of the house, as well as his dislike of baths and constricting clothes, he was not as wild, uncontrollable or mischievous as before.

Myriam watched as Ngozi went to fetch the cart, until he disappeared into the trees. When he arose, he was no longer alone but with a girl who looked about Ngozi's age with blond hair pulled tightly under a bonnet. She wore a pink dress that dragged against the ground as she walked, and a stack of books was pulled tightly under her arms.

" You will never learn how to read or write if you don't come," the girl said. Ngozi speed up, leaving her behind. She followed dutifully. "Father Timothy says that God intends for all his children to be able to read his word. Even you Ngozi."

" My Father and Mother teaches me," Ngozi said stubbornly walking to the deer.

" Well hello," Myriam said recognizing the girl as one of the new homesteader's daughter who's family had arrived at the homestead just months before. " What seems to be the problem?"

The girl glanced away suddenly realizing she had company besides Ngozi. Moments later Fenrir sprung from the bushes in front of her and she screamed throwing her books in the air and cowering behind Ngozi.

" That's just Fenrir," Ngozi said trying to slide from the girl's grip.

" He's a wolf," she exclaimed. Her eyes moved to the deer caress staining the ground red, and she gasped, and then began to cry.

" You killed it."

Ngozi shrugged, "We are to eat it. You to."

The girl shook her head. " I won't, I won't."

Ngozi frowned, then moved to bend over the deer, the girl let him go then, taking a few steps back, tears moving down her cheeks.

" I won't."

Ngozi did not turn around to face her, " Then don't," he said moving to slide his hands under the deer's neck.

_He's as forward and callous as his father as well…._Myriam thought.

" You are so mean Ngozi," the girl said still crying. Ngozi turned then, confusion set in his brow, a frown on his lips. Then before he could say anything more the girl ran, leaving her books scattered across the ground.

" Ngozi…" Myriam began.

" Did I do something wrong?" He asked concerned. " Why is she crying."

" Because you hurt her feelings," Myriam said bluntly. " She wants to be your friend."

He turned from the path she just ran focusing his attention back at the deer. "She's just a stupid girl," he scuffed. " Why would I want to be her friend?" Even so he did not sound convinced of his own words.

Myriam sighed. " Let's finish up here, if we're not back soon Uduak will be worried."

He helped Myriam load the deer onto the cart, then with hardly a word started back towards Myriam's house. She trailed behind, enjoying the midmorning wind and the smell of oak.

* * *

><p><p>

**Uduak **

" Delightful simply delightful," Emily said. " This spot will do nicely. Oh can't you just see it Uduak." She sighed dreamily. " Oh this is such a nice place. Quiet, peaceful, clean, and everyone is so nice."

" That's why I love it here," I said. " For some reason I never felt like I belonged in Boston."

Emily shifted in the grass beside me. " You just have to tell me," she cheered. " How you two met."

" Connor and I?"

" Yes. You know I have a weakness for epic romances. Tell me everything. Starting with how he managed to get you out of Boston."

I shrugged. " I just left on my own."

" Truly?" Emily sighed. " It wasn't for the money?"

I shook my head. " Somehow, money no longer felt important to me. Suddenly I wanted to do was follow him. All I wanted was him." I blushed at the way it sounded coming from my mouth. " Sorry. I know I am being quite strange."

" Oh posh," Emily said leaning back onto her elbows. " I saw the way he looked at you. I half expected him to either attempt to eat you, or take you right where you stood. And you looked both afraid he would and would not try either or both."

" Emily!" I scolded feeling the blush still rising up my neck to my cheeks.

She pulled a fan out of her bosom and began to fan herself with it. " By God, it's been a long time since someone looked at me that way. The simplicities of fishing without bait is gone, and we are getting older. Men with their insane need for sons," she sighed. " Look at me the pot calling the kettle black. We are no better, afraid of every look, touch or word that is passed from our men to another woman." She sighed again, then pushed her cup to her lips, she took a long drink. "I may not love James, the fool, but the thought of him with someone else, absolutely repulsive me."

" But James-"

" Is a fool," she said bluntly. " Who loves me, a great deal more than I love him. I do believe he can sense it sometimes, in his bouts of anger, I do not discourage him. It makes me feel that maybe somehow it's fair, that somehow in those moments he loves me just as equally as I do him."

" That is very sad," I could find no other words to describe it. I could not imagine being that way with Connor. Enjoying his anger more than his love, yet unable to let go.

" He looks different than the others," She said seemly unfazed by my response.

" Connor?"

She nodded. " What is it they call themselves? Savages? Natives? Oh it matters little." She sat her cup in the dirt, reached for mine. I gave it to her without argument. I could tell she was a few sips away from drunk, and I had no quarrels about it. From what I could remember, she was the most manageable drunk, because she often fell asleep. " I see no band on your person. Are you two not married?"

I shook my head.

She gasped. " The brute," still she did not sound convinced.

" I can tell he wishes to," I said folding my arms about my stomach. "But I won't let him." I had no real reason why, already we were as close as any married couple could be. All we lacked now were the titles. Still to accept his proposal, to become his wife, in name and deed, felt unfair somehow, like I would be taking more from him, than I would be giving in return.

" Marriage is personal," Emily said breaking my thoughts. "And we are creatures who rather prefer the privileges of impersonal attachments. Once a courtesan always a courtesan. All the pretty bands and titles in the world won't change that."

Ngozi arose from the wood then, beside him Myriam with her horse and cart, on the back of it the body of a dead deer.

" I don't think so," I said.

Emily stood. " My God, you hunt here too? There is no market to buy your meat?"

Myriam eyed Emily then glanced over at me inquisitive.

" Myriam, this is Emily. Emily, Myriam." I felt like I'd introduced Emily more than a hundred times, between introducing her to almost every homesteader. It was no wonder both Connor and Ngozi left early that morning in pursuit of other things to do.

Emily took Myriam's hands. " I am Uduak's best friend."

" Funny," Myriam said. " She's never mentioned you."

" She wouldn't have," Emily said," She's always been a bit jealous of me you know. Who can blame her right? She's always afraid I'm going to whisk her friends away if she ever introduces me to any of them. So far she's right." Emily laughed in only the way Emily could. " Tell me what is it you that you do?"

" I am a hunter," Myriam said.

Emily's eyes widened. " A woman hunter?"

" Yes-"

" Delightful. I simply love it. Why must the men have all the fun. Women are just as powerful. Am I right?"

" Yes," Myriam said. " Most people don't have that reaction the first time I tell them."

Emily touched her shoulder. " Well you will learn really quick," she said leading Myriam away in the opposite direction. " I am not most people. Now you simply must tell me all about this hunting you do. Just in case I decide to take the sport up for myself. I watched them drift off leaving Ngozi and I alone.

" Did you have fun?" I asked bending down to wipe a smear of mud he had on his cheek.

As usual he shyed away from my touch.

" Yes," he said.

" What is wrong?" I asked.

" One of the girls," Ngozi said. " From Father Timothy's…"

" You skipped lessons again today didn't you?" I scolded. " Ngozi. How many times do I have to go through this with you?"

" It wasn't about that," Ngozi said impatiently. " Can I tell you what it was or not?"

" Alright. But we are not done with the subject of lessons. You are going tomorrow."

He sighed, then continued. " I think I made her cry."

" One of the girls?"

He nodded. " I did not mean to. She was just being really annoying. And I wanted her to go away."

" So you said something mean to her?"

" Well it wasn't mean. But Myriam said it was."

I touched his cheek. His skin was warm against my palm, and soft. " Then you should go and apologize," I said.

He started to protest. "It's only the right thing to do."

" Fine," he said kicking the dirt.

" That's my little wolf," I said pushing down his tangled hair and kissing his forehead." Then afterwards head to lessons. And I better not hear you gave Father Timothy any backtalk."

He trailed away from me, his shoulders slumped, one hand shoved in his pocket, while the other held a stack of books. " I will see you this evening," I called after him.

" Beautiful."

I turned not recognizing the voice. A man stood behind me, dressed in all-black cloak, his face beneath the hood bandaged from his chin to his forehead, so that all I could see was his eyes and lips.

" Forgive me," he said. " I did not mean to frighten."

I stood. " It is quite alright," I said. " Is there something I can assist you with sir."

He shook his head. " I was merely admiring the interaction between you and your son. I find it a truly beautiful thing, the love of a mother for her son." His accent was unrecognizable.

" Yes…" I said. "You are a father as well?" I asked.

He shook his head. " No. But I do wish to someday father a child."

I took a step back. Something about him made me nervous." It is quite a task," I said.

He glanced out at the path Ngozi just walked.

" Treasure him," He said. " In these troubled times, any moment could be our last."

" I will," I said.

He nodded again, and then bowed slightly. " Well I should be off. Delightful meeting you-"

" Uduak," I said.

" Isaac," he replied. "My pleasure."

He walked away from me, his cloak bellowing behind him. I watched him go, taking note of his tallness, the build of his shoulders and form, feeling the sense of wariness coming over me.

* * *

><p><strong>Connor<strong>

Ngozi was not home when Connor finally arrived back from his meeting with the Assassin's, but Uduak was, sitting upon the porch reading, while Brianna sat besides her carving at a stick of sugar cane with a knife.

As expected he was needed again to set off on another mission. He debated how he was to tell Uduak, it seemed each time got harder and harder. He'd been gone since early that morning before she awoke, and he would likely be gone for a least a couple of days more.

When Uduak spotted him she lowered her book and smiled. Her smile was filled with relief and sadness all at once, and it made his insides twist with guilt.

" Where is Ngozi?" He asked, glancing away from her.

" He is at Father Timothy's with the other children," Uduak said, " He had a bit of a disagreement with one of the girls. I sent him to apologize." She stood and held out her hands to him, "Come I have made your favorite."

He glanced down at her hands. The remnants of ash were caked into the creases of her palms, a sign that she'd been praying while he was gone. Were her dress not covering her legs, he would have seen her knees stained as well, red and raw from kneeling.

He knew she prayed the most when he was away, or when something was worrying at her. Sometimes she sat; on her knees in front of her alter for hours at a time, before finally collapsing from exhaustion.

" Do not worry Emily left. Something about meeting James at a party."

He did not take her hands, did not step forward. "Uduak I cannot stay for long."

She pulled her hands back quickly. " Yes. Yes of course." She stood. " At least eat something before you go."

" Uduak," he called firmly.

" Are they coming for you soon?" she said trailing inside the house. " I spent all day cooking. Here taste this."

She stuck a spoon in his mouth before he could object. The soup was hot and salty on his tongue. "And look I didn't burn it this time," he pulled a head of corn off the roasting stone and showed it to him. " And-"

He grabbed her arm. She paused.

" Uduak. What is wrong?"

" Why do you always assume something is wrong?" She asked glaring up at him. "Why can't I just be genuinely happy to do something right? I wanted to cook something for you, and do it properly. I want to support you without complaint. By the Gods Connor, you are making it extremely difficult."

" Would you rather I not care?" He asked calmly.

" I…" She paused and glanced up at him, her eyes searching. " I am not used to this," she said. " Forgive me. I should not push away your concern."

" Neither am I," Connor admitted wanting nothing more at that moment than to calm her. He was never quite sure what was bothering her, and he was not sure if that was because it was her nature to hide things in attempt to make everyone happy, or if that was just women in general.

She grinned up at him. "Obviously."

" Your soup was good," he said after a long moment. Her grin spread.

" Really?" She asked. He nodded. She pressed a hand to his bicep. "Careful my wolf, I may never let you leave."

" Connor! Connor!"

They both turned. Norris stood at the door.

" Norris what is wrong?"

" Fire," he said, " At the church. Come quick."

* * *

><p><strong>Ngozi <strong>

Ngozi trailed through the woods Fenrir by his side, the books he'd borrowed from Father Timothy tucked under his arm. He recalled his mother as he walked, how sad she looked before he left her.

_That is probably why mother is always so sad. She thinks Father is a bad person. _He'd overheard the women on the homestead talking, they were saying that bad men only produced bad seeds that never grew to be anything, that the children would be nothing or no one. He could not have that happen to his mother. He would fix everything, he would take care of their family.

_I'll catch Father before he leaves… _Ngozi knew better than anyone else how fast his father could move. He felt disappointment pool in his gut, his father oculd be miles away, and Ngozi had no way of catching him.

" how about you Fenrir," he whispered to the wolf, " can you smell him?"

He gained a growl in reply. Ngozi turned, surprised because he'd never heard Fenrir growl before. He was always so friendly and carefree, even when they were hunting, seeming to take everything as a game.

A figure stood in the darkness, tall and shadowed.

"Father?" He called, even though he knew it wasn't his father, even though he knew it was useless to ask.

Fenrir lunged, springing in Ngozi's defense, his teeth bared. A hand shot out quicker than Ngozi could recall catching Fenrir in the ribs. He fell to the side whimpering but did not let up as she lunged again. This time it was the attackers boot that caught Fenrir in the exact spot sending him propelling into the darkness.

Ngozi shot out after him, ready to scream for help when a hand grabbed the back of his shirt jerking him backwards. He opened his mouth, half a yelp escaping before hands were on his mouth, over his nose. He kicked and struggled, panic overwhelming him, suddenly and desperately aware that he was weak in the hands of his strong processor.

His teeth found the roughness of dried leather and he bit down, much like an animal caught in a trap, resorting to any means necessary to getaway. The attackers grip tightened around his form, squeezing the breath out of him, and restricting his movements.

_LET GO…_

He couldn't breathe.

_He's going to kill me…_

He knew so little about death, not nearly enough to be afraid of it. But the thought of leaving his mother…father…Brianna…Nela alone without him, was too much to bear.

" Calm there lad, don't make this harder than it has to be."

It was a man's voice. He sounded kind, as if he really cared for Ngozi and how he was feeling, despite the fact that he was suffocating him.

" Go to sleep now, this will all be over soon," the man whispered.

In the distance wolves began to howl. Darkness fell. And then there was silence.

* * *

><p><strong>Luke <strong>

Hot, everything was too hot. Breathe did not come easy, nor did movement. He was restricted under seemly unmovable weight.

_I do believe I am dying. _

He fought to rise to the surface, sensing the sweet refreshment of air and the guarantee of space.

His hands found it first, fingers twisting about sheets made of silk that smelled of roses and milk infused with honey and pleasure.

He felt warm fingers gather about his member, sending the familiar shockwave of pleasure coursing down his spine, another drip in an endless bucket in the pool of his gut.

" Luke," a sweet voice whispered in his ear reminding him where he was, and situation he found himself in.

" Wine," he said in reply. "Why is my cup empty?"

The request did not fall on deaf ears. A cup was immediately filled, the rim overfilling with red wine he could only guess was several hundred years older than he was.

" We thought we lost you." The softness of breast touched his arm. He glanced over in attempt to match the face with the body. A mulatto woman sat beside him, black of hair, light of skin, brown of eye. She was pretty, one could argue even beautiful, but something was missing, something important.

" We do not want that now do we, love? " Luke said squeezing her thigh.

Behind the girl another girl arose, similar in appearance. "Finish your story," she begged her voice soft and sweet.

" Ah," Luke said. " It would seem I've forgotten where it was I stopped."

Lips touched his neck, followed by the softness of hands at his shoulders. A third girl arose, almost a duplicate of the first two.

_All that's right, I have paid for the company of the triplets. How much have I agreed upon again? _

He'd forgotten in the course of the few hours since leaving the comfort of the brothel for the less than comfortable, comfort of the mercenary's tower.

The door to his room opened sending in a flood of blinding light.

"He was in the middle of telling ye about how much he must prepare for his next assignment."

" Sana," Luke called out leaning back, his elbows falling onto the thighs of the girl behind him. "Nice of you to join us. I am to believe you are joining us right?"

The girls giggled. Sana's catlike eyes narrowed into a glare. "You are needed at the front."

Luke sighed, " Of course I am. Take a message, I am busy." He gestured to the women in his bed. " Very busy."

" To busy," Sana began, " To read a message concerning ye precious Uduak."

Luke was up before she could say another word, bare as the day he was born. Ignoring the protest of the women he strolled to the door where Sana stood.

" I do hope you are telling the truth," Luke said all kindness and jest gone from his voice.

She held up the letter, wrapped and sealed. He took it from her and ripped it open his eagerness overcoming him.

" Well?" Sana inquired as he read then reread the note.

" Tell me Sana my beautiful friend," Luke said his characteristic smile spreading across his face, " Do you fancy a trip to the colonies?"

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah yeah I know you guys are excited about Luke coming back. The lucky bastard has a special place in my heart that I just can't let go of just yet. So I know you guys are wondering. Will he meet up with Uduak again? Connor? Will there be shipping? Epic love triangle action? <strong>

**While I will not say much, I will release this little fact. Luke will have his own little sections within the story, where the reader will get to zoom in on his point of view to certain situations. Exciting right? The answer is yes. But one should also keep in mind that the Luke we will be reading about from this point on is a bit different that the one from before. I.E. he is not quite the same man that fell in love with Uduak, then had his heart heartlessly torn out! ( Sorry I just have this thing for Luke, I want him to be happy, but he's just at his best when he's not) Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Don't know, read and find out. ( Seriously guys I don't know, I literally come up with this stuff out of the blue)...**

**And Ngozi...the little guy! What will happen to him? And Uduak! And Connor? Geez as if they aren't going through enough already, now Ngozi has to go and get himself captured. **

**Historical Info **

**Bathhouse- Although not very common during the 18th century, one could most likely find one attached to or within a brothel. There, for a certain price one could not only get a much needed bath, but get a much needed bath, and order a prostitute as well to pass the time. Who ever said to much of a good thing was bad? **

**Feedback greatly appreciated! **


	4. Gone

**Oh yes another chapter. Be happy. So so happy. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own AC3. No matter how much I wished I did. **

**Enjoy! Long Chapter ahead. **

* * *

><p>"Are all the children out?" Myriam called as she hauled yet another bucket full of water at the burning building.<p>

Connor arose from the flames, face and clothes stained black from the soot and smoke, two of the children in his arms.

"Where is Ngozi?" Uduak asked her voice urgent and frightened.

Myriam turned to her. "He left," she said. "Before the fire started. " I watched him go."

"Where?" Uduak said.

" He did not say," Myriam replied, but she saw the tension in Uduak's shoulders instantly loosen.

" I'm going to try and find him," Uduak said starting forward.

Myriam stopped her. " Shouldn't you wait for Con-"

" He's busy. It should only take a few minutes. If he asks tell him where I've gone."

" Uduak-" Myriam began. There was no stopping Uduak, she was already halfway into the wood taking the same path as Ngozi. Myriam watched her warily wondering if she should follow her. She couldn't explain why but a feeling of dread was boiling in her gut.

" Nela," Ms. Hans said. " By God where is that child."

One of the children stepped forward. " She left, following behind Ngozi."

Myriam felt herself sigh in relief, all the children were accounted for, and no one got hurt. The last bucket of water was thorwn onto the fire and it dimmed. They did a call for the children, the only ones missing Ngozi and Nela.

" The fire," Myriam said aloud glancing over at the half burned church. " Did one of the children drop a candle."

" No," Father Timothy said. " The children were doing their midafternoon prayers, and the fire sprung as if out of nowhere."

" Fires just do not spring out of nowhere," Connor said turning in the direction of the path Uduak just took.

" Where are you going?" Myriam said starting to follow him.

_He has a point, someone had to have started the fire but why? _Myriam wanted to ask Connor what conclusion he'd drawn, but he was halfway into the woods.

_Figures they both would go running off…_ Still something did not feel right. Myriam could sense a sort of distension in the air and it unsettled her. She thought about following Uduak and Connor, but thought better of it, and instead joined the others in helping make sure the fire didn't start back up.

* * *

><p><strong>Connor<strong>

Through his vision Connor would see the trail, the tiny subtly hints left by Ngozi and then Uduak, leading into the woods, followed by the trail of another. Something was wrong.

Wasting no time he followed the clues, stopping only momentary to pick up a piece of broken wood, or feel the indent of a small footprint in the grass. It was the weak cries of an injured animal that made him pause in his pursuit, to turn towards the tall grass.

Fenrir arose, half crawling half walking towards Connor, his nozzle caked in blood, his torso curled.

When Connor approached, he growled, baring his teeth and snapping. Connor held out his hands to him, ushering him to stay calm.

_This is not right…_Connor thought as he brought the wolf pup into his arms. Fenrir latched onto the leather of Connor's arm Connor gently grabbed him, his yelps increasing in volume.

_Where is Ngozi?_

_Crunch._

Connor leapt then, dodging the blade of a dagger just seconds before it could hit him. Fenrir still in his arms he fell to the ground and rolled, withdrawing his tomahawk as he recovered.

_What? _

A figure stood directly in front of him, dressed in all black, a cloak thrown about his shoulders, a hood covering his head, a mask over his nose and mouth, so that all Connor could see were his eyes, shaded beneath his hood. Thrown over his shoulder was a large shack.

" Who are you?" Connor demanded.

The figure said nothing. One hand braced itself over his belt, while the other tightened itself around the end of the shack. Fenrir growled, attempting move forward, only to fall back down.

Connor's eyes drifted to the sack, it was big enough to hold a body, the body of a child.

Connor lurched at the figure, his tomahawk still in hand, posed to strike. The man withdrew a dagger, throwing it at Connor, the blade surging towards Connor's chest, almost too fast to see. Connor spun, the blade slicing through the thick clothe of his robe, and cutting into his right arm instead.

The man ran, climbing the broken trunk of a tree and leaping until he was among the trees, free running as quickly and nimbly as Connor.

Connor followed, determination making his feet quick. The man leapt just as they reached the clearing, landing on the ground right in front of the cliffs.

Still silent the man bent to his knees, withdrawing the sack from his shoulder and opening it. Reaching inside he pulled, first revealing a tuff of brown hair, then the head and partial body of Ngozi.

From where Connor stood, he could not tell if Ngozi was dead or merely unconscious. As peaceful as he looked, one would think he was merely sleeping.

_Ngozi…_

Connor withdrew his bow, the arrow already in place he aimed it at the man. He would kill him for what he'd done. But first he wanted to know why, and who the man was working for.

A list of names appeared in Connor's mind. The slavers might have hired someone, perhaps someone from the British army, the Templars. Even so it did not matter at the second. Dead or alive, that man had his son.

Of all the things that could have been done to Connor, this was perhaps the worst. An innocent child, being caught in his crossfire.

But was it not working? Connor could feel all sense of rationality leaving him as he glanced between Ngozi and the mysterious man.

_I am afraid…_Connor realized. But not for himself. But for Ngozi. _If he is dead…_

But he could not worry about that now. That was what the man wanted, for Connor to doubt himself that is likely why he showed Connor Ngozi in the first place.

_All else must wait until after I kill this man…_Connor thought as he settled his shaking fingers, and tensed his bow.

The man moved to stand, and Connor shot.

He dodged the arrow, spinning around, another dagger arising from his palm aimed at Connor. Connor moved, using the momentum from his dodge to lurch forward after the man, tomahawk raised.

The man withdrew a sword at the same moment, and their weapon's clashed sending sparks from the metal into the air.

One hand still holding the tomahawk Connor withdrew his hidden blade, intending to stab the man in the stomach. The man, anticipating his attack blocked that blade as well with one of his daggers.

They struggled for a half second, neither able to overcome the other, before the man shot out his left foot, sending Connor stumbling backwards towards the cliff. Connor caught himself before he could fall, and the man lunged again catching Connor as he balanced himself.

The tip blade sunk partly into the flesh of Connor's side, before Connor could lurch backward away from the full impact.

_He is fast…_Connor thought as he stumbled backwards, holding his side, his breathing heavy and quick. Blood gushed down the front of his robe, falling in droplets into the ground.

The man was not deterred by having gotten a blow. He came at Connor again, intending to land another blow, and Connor swung his tomahawk catching the man's shoulder, tearing through the clothe of his cloak, then flesh and finally bone. The man withdrew, falling onto his knees with a cry.

Connor loomed above him, tomahawk still tightly gripped in shaking fingers, blood pouring from his wound.

He felt faint, and suddenly tired, and he realized that he'd lost a lot more blood than he thought.

" Who sent you?" Connor demanded.

The man said nothing. His hood was drawn back, long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail that sketched across his back, and hazel eyes glared up at Connor. All at once the shock of familiarly came rushing to him , and he wondered for a long second where he's seen such a gaze before. It was eerie and unsettling, the feeling the man brought up in Connor.

" I ask again," Connor said. " Who sent you?"

Still nothing.

_I will have to interrogate him. It is very unlikely he will tell me anything without force. _

CRACK!

Darkness feel first, and his body followed.

* * *

><p><strong>Uduak<strong>

I saw the man first, then I saw Ngozi as the man gathered up his form into a sack. I recognized him, the man, as the one I spoke to before.

Without thinking I ran forward, ready to attack, stopping when the man bent and picked up a fallen object at his feet.

He lifted it, giving me full view, then threw it so it landed in the dirt in front of me.

It was Connor's tomahawk, the blade and handle stained with blood.

" Con—"

_Why…_

_Connor…_

I bent down and took the tomahawk in my hands. It was heavy, heavier than I ever remember it being. I glaze fell upon it, then the ground where it once lay. Blood was everywhere, some scattered upon the rock faces, others pooling, a sticky mess of black and red.

I took a step forward, then another and another until I stood at he end of the cliff. My gaze traveled down, over the steepness of it, taking in the height of it, the rush of water underneath. No normal man could have survived a fall like that, and yet I'd seen Connor leap from heights taller than that dozens of times.

Leap…not fall…

_And if he was injured…._

I shook my head. I could not think of that now, when another task lay in front of me.

"Is Ngozi dead?" I asked. There were so many other questions I wished to ask, and yet none would rise to the surface.

" No." The man answered. " But he will be soon."

" Then take me too," I said. " To where ever it is you are going."

The man turned his back on me. " I cannot."

I lurched at him, Connor's tomahawk in my hands. The man spun, his hand wrapping around my neck. He was so close. I could see the wisps of black hair under his hood, the color of his eyes. He had hazel eyes, like Ngozi and me, a fusion of green and brown that seem to mix even more in the sunlight.

" Then kill me," I said. " You've taken so much already. My life is only but a smaller token."

He squeezed, and all at once I felt the breath leaving me. I did not fight it, but embraced it. After all. What was I without Connor or Ngozi? They were what tied me to the world, and now they were gone.

My vision swam in blotches of white and red, quickly fading into grey and then black, until I saw and felt nothing.

When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer in the forest, surrounded my blood and chaos, but laying in my bed at home.

The room was warm and dimly lighted. I could smell the fragrances of tea and candles burning along with the strong almost acidic smell of drying paint.

Myriam's face appeared in my view, both concern and worry covering her features.

" Good you are awake."

" Ng-" I began. My throat felt like sand, rough and gravely.

" Here I have water," Myriam said and she brought a cup of water to my lips. I half swallowed, half coughed the water down, before turning my head away when she offered more.

" Ngozi-" I croaked. " And Co-" I coughed. " Connor. Where?"

" Shhh…" Myriam cooed. " Rest now you are not well."

" Where…" I felt the unset of tears, yet I lacked the strength to completely carry it through.

" Udua-"

" Where?" I demanded louder this time. I would scream it, if that was what it took to get a clear answer.

" Connor…" Myriam said reluctantly. She hesitated for a long moment, then said, "Has not awoken yet. His injuries are very bad. A woman claiming to be your sister found him at the bottom of the cliff. There still remains no trace of Ngozi."

I turned my gaze away from her.

" But they are still looking. I'm sure they will find something."

I drew the covers off my form and slipped my legs over the side of the bed. Myriam came over to help me, but I pushed her hands away as I stood to my feet. I was wobbly but I did not fall as a walked to my trunk and opened it. Inside lay my statues, carved images of wood and stone, beneath them the blacked powder of ash, dirt and herbs.

" Brianna," I called.

" Now?" She asked.

" Yes." I answered. I could feel Myriam's confused gaze on me. I did not ask her to leave as I stripped from all my clothing, my scarred back, orientated with markings, now permanent, as much a part of me as my flesh.

" Very well," Brianna said walking out the room. I picked up a pair of scissors from my vanity stand.

" Uduak-" Myriam began. " What are you-?"

I placed the scissors between a lock of my own hair and cut. The hair fell, the strings scattering as they hit the ground. Myriam's hand touched my shoulder. I turned and glared at her.

" Uduak this makes no sense."

" It does to me," I said. I continued to cut, while Myriam watched on, stopping only when I could no longer grip my hair with the scissors. The rest would have to be shaved.

Brianna returned just as I'd finished.

" The water is finished," she said.

I followed her out to where the bath sat. I barely felt the coldness of the water as a sat down and Brianna washed me. Afterwards she shaved off with little hair I had left on my head, the blade so sharp it cut my scalp staining the water a faint pink.

Afterwards I was dried and Brianna spread a thick paste of black dye, the burned ashes of bark and herbs across my body. Her calloused fingers were like the tiny strings of a paintbrush as they moved across my skin, crisscrossing and encircling, line by delicate line until she was finished.

I returned to my room afterwards where Myriam still was. When she saw me her eyes widened. She took a step towards me, then another, and another. Brianna blocked her path.

" Do not, she has just been cleansed."

" Cleansed? I do not understand?" Myriam said.

I went to my knees in front of the trunk, withdrawing the statues and lining them in the appropriate path atop the trunk. I lit my candles and incense next, filling the room with a pungent earthly scent. Although my hands were already blackened from the dye I spread the ashes across them as well,

Then with folded hands I began to pray.

* * *

><p><strong>Ngozi<strong>

Ngozi awoke in a room, on a bed that smelled of mold and smoke. There was a window, a dresser and a fireplace. The walls were bare and brown, the floor without rugs.

He sat up, slipping out of bed, his head aching, as if some great weight had been put upon while he was sleeping.

_Where am I…_He wasn't at home that was for sure. His room had a book shelve, and painting his mother had given him, and a desk. _Where is Fenrir…_He never woke up without Fenrir there at his side.

He tried to open the door, only to find it was locked, the window was too.

_I've need captured…_He'd read about being captured, but it was usually damsel in distress, who waited in tall castles for princes to arrive and save them.

He wasn't a damsel. So who was there to save him.

_Father…_yes surely his father would come eventually._ Even mother…but it'll be too dangerous for her. Father would make her stay behind._

_All I have to do is wait. _He said back on the bed, gathering the covers up about his legs, as he drew his knees in close. He would wait, and wait, and wait, even if it took a million years. Someone would come for him.

He told himself he wasn't scared, repeated it over and over inside of his head. But it didn't work. He was scared. And the longer he sat there, replaying the events from the night the man took him away, the more frightened he became.

_He might have killed Fenrir…._he remembered how bravely Fenrir had fought, like he was a full grown wolf, as big and strong as Obi, and for a moment Ngozi was proud, before he recalled the noises Fenrir had made when the man had kicked him.

_Fenrir…_

Fenrir was his best friend, and he might have lost him.

_And mother…_She was always so worried when Ngozi seemed to disappear, even though he was always right within her reach. He hated to see the look on her face when she'd thought he was lost.

_Now she will look for me and I won't be there. _

And his father. _How am I supposed to take care of mother when I'm here and not at home…?_

His father would be disappointed in him for not being there.

He started to cry, the tears running down his cheeks in pools. He could not remember the last time he cried, having decided he was no longer going to cry after witnessing his mother holding back her own tears. He'd always reasoned that if she could do it, then he could. He would be strong like his father, without fear or weakness.

The door opened and a woman appeared in the doorway. She was pretty, with long brown hair and eyes that reminded Ngozi of a deer.

" Oh no. Oh. No. There will be none of that." She came and sat next to him on the bed. Her hand found his shoulder, and he flinched away from her foreign touch. "Don't cry."

" Where am I?" Ngozi sniffed. She'd left the door open in her haste to comfort him.

_I can escape…I just have to get past her…_

" You are safe now," she said patting his back. " There is no longer any need to be afraid. We will take care of you."

" I want to go home," Ngozi said. He pressed his face into her lap, and twisted his arms under hers.

" This is your home now," she said.

" I am hungry," Ngozi said.

" I knew you would be," she said standing. "Come. We're find you something good to eat." She held out her hand to him, and he took it, tightening his grip on her hand at the last second and using her arm as a brace as he leapt to the open door.

She called out after him but he ignored her as he darted out into the open hall. The walls were burgundy and gold, and lined with strange paintings of white men he'd never seen before.

He continued to run, barefoot down the hall, passing room after room, as he searched for a way outside. He came to flight of stairs and he barreled down them, caring nothing for the noise he was making.

A door came into view the closer he got to the bottom, next to it a window made of many panes, which revealed the courtyard outside. A giant fish pond, in its middle the statue of a man on a horse, a sword in his hand.

_I'm almost there…_

Suddenly a hand found the back of his neck and he was jerked back suddenly. His feet left the ground, and he scrambled, struggling to move forward against the strength of the grip.

" Well. Well what have we here? The little savage is trying to escape."

" Let me go!" Ngozi shouted.

A group white men appeared in his view then, some young, some old, all standing around a table cluttered with maps and figures.

" Rebecca. I thought I told you to handle this." The man shook Ngozi, so hard his teeth chattered in his skull.

The doe eyed woman bowed. Short of breath she said, " I am sorry. He ran before I could stop him."

" Do not let it happen again. I would hate to have to take the little savage off your hands." He threw Ngozi at her feet. " Now take him away. We will deal with this little incident later."

" Yes sir. Come along now." She tried to grab Ngozi. He pushed her hands away.

" No." Ngozi said.

The man he was holding him turned. He had auburn brown hair and eyes the color of the sky.

" No?" He repeated the word as if it were foreign to him. "And why ever not?"

The men at the table had stopped working, their gazes turned to Ngozi and the man with eyes like the sky.

" I don't have to listen to you," Ngozi said. "My father is a strong warrior. He's going to come here and kill you all. Just wait and see."

"A warrior you say?" The man smiled.

Ngozi nodded. "The strongest there is."

" Ah.." he man said. "I see." The man walked to the table, his hand falling on one of the items there, before he came back around to face Ngozi. "Then how would you explain this?"

The man held out his father's hidden blade. For a long moment, Ngozi oculd not believe what he was seeing. His father never took off his hidden blade, even when he was without his robe, his blade was always on his person. He'd let Ngozi hold it twice, wear it once. Ngozi still remembered the small smile on his father's face, as Ngozi had attempted to desperately make the large leather band fit around his small wrist, before giving up and declaring he would be bigger than his father one day, big enough to wear it.

But now that it was no longer on his father's wrist. That could only mean…

_SMACK. _

Ngozi fell to the ground. He could taste blood, and feel his cheek swelling.

" You little barbarian," the doe eyed woman yelled. "How dare you disrespect him, after he was gracious enough to spare your life, and the life of your whore mother."

He'd never been hit that hard before, not even by Brianna when he did something bad.

It hurt. But not as much as the realization that his father was dead.

The man said something else and the woman replied, but Ngozi could barely hear it over the rush of blood in his ears, and the stinging in his cheek.

Faintly he was aware of someone dragging him away. He glanced up, through burry tear filled eyes, taking in the faces of each and every one of the men, before his gaze finally fell on a large flag, sewed onto it, the imprint of a red cross.

* * *

><p><strong>Dr. Lyle<strong>

" For the pain I ended up having to give him a slight overdose of laudanum and opium," Dr. Lyle said folding his equipment into his bag. It was a good thing they found Connor when they had, or else he truly would have died from blood loss. It was surprising he was even alive now.

Dr. Lyle took in the sight of Uduak. She sat on the bed Connor lay on, his head cradled in her lap while he lay still and sleeping. It was her who'd forced him to drink the mixtures. Even half awake and injured he still managed to put up a fight, exclaiming that he did not need the medicines, and he could move without them.

It pained him to see her this way, faded and broken and to know there was nothing he could medically do for her.

"Brianna. May I speak to you outside," Dr. Lyle replied beckoning the older woman he follow him. She followed him without a word into the hall. " I am not sure if you already know. Considering your background in the field. But Uduak is pregnant."

" I know," Brianna said.

Dr. Lyle sighed. " Then you also must know, that it very likely, like all the others she will lose her child."

Brianna nodded.

Dr. Lyle continued. " My only fear is that considering her mental state at the moment, should she lose her child, she may-" he cut himself off. He did not need to finish the sentence for her to understand.

" Thank you Doctor," Brianna said nodding. She turned away from him.

" Wait," he called after her. He knew she was succinct, and at times extremely aloof, but he'd expected her to at least make a decision before completely disregarding him.

" I will handle," Brianna said.

Dr. Lyle sighed. There was nothing more he could say on the matter without being abruptly shut down.

" I will return in a hour," Dr. Lyle said. "Should he awake before then, send for me immediately, I will be at Mile's End."

Outside the homesteaders were still going about their daily business, but a sick sort of stillness fowled the air. Connor was injured, at any moment he could die, his son Ngozi missing and no one truly knew why.

Connor's life outside of the homestead was not one he openly popularized, and while a few of the homesteaders had a suspicion, it never went any further than that. All that mattered was that Connor was always there when they needed him, without complaint. Dr. Lyle could only guess the homesteaders wished to see the truth with their out eyes before accepting it without true cause.

What a bittersweet moment this must be for Uduak. She had her lover, but lost her son.

_She would know…_With the exception of perhaps Myriam, Uduak was the only person who knew Connor almost fully. _It is only expected…_They were in love after all, they had a son.

Dr. Lyle saw it, manifested in the way Connor stood, hovered protectively over Uduak and Ngozi ready to grab them at every wayward sound or sudden movement someone else made.

_And the way he looked at her…_One could think she was queen herself. Lyle had always noted that a man had either loved his wife more after she bared his first son, or hated her the same, there was never any in between.

_Ah…but they are not married are they…_

Lyle could only imagine how grand a celebration that would have been. It took weeks of preparation for Myriam's wedding. Were Connor and Uduak to be wedded, it would take months.

_Do I believe he will die? _Lyle had not stopped in the last week since Ngozi's disappearance to ask himself that question. Connor was a resilient young man, Lyle could not count the number of times he'd appeared at his doorstep, cut up, bruised, banged and broken, seeking medical attention, either by his own free will or the insistent demand of Uduak. And every single time he made a speedy recovery. There was never any doubt in Lyle's mind that he would not.

Did Lyle have questions to how Connor came upon some of his wounds? Of course he did. And sometimes he asked. And more often than not, he did not get a straight answer.

_No…I do not believe it…so there is no need to ask. _Lyle thought as he took the path leading to Mile's End instead of going home. He needed a drink to ease his mind.

Mile's End was half empty when he finally arrived. The men who sat inside, drank silently, a cloud of sadness over them, echoing the stillness of the homestead. Lyle took a seat at the bar, next to a younger fellow with auburn hair that curled about his head and face.

"Rum please," Lyle said.

"Delightful chaps aren't they?" The man beside him said. His accent was British and held a mocking amusing tone.

Lyle shook his head. "We have lost much in the past week. It is only expected."

"I am told," the man said turning to Lyle. His lips parted into a grin, "That even the wolves fell silent."

* * *

><p><strong>Ok so a lot of stuff happened in this chapter, and it happened pretty fast. A lot of characters have been thrown around, some without names, others with noticeable features. I promise they all have a purpose other than to give you guys a headache. Not a lot of internal dialog for which I am sorry. There will be more next chapter I promise. I seriously just needed to get all this stuff out of the way. <strong>

**So hairless Uduak...what do you guys think. I seriously could not get the image of Brittany Spears out of my mind while writing this. Hopefully my friend and I can finish the comic that is supposed to go with the next chapter, by next chapter. Fingers crossed. We are both super busy with College, so no promises, but we will try out best. I'm super excited to see what the both us can come up with in styling shaved Uduak. **

**Ok now for history stuff: **

****Laudanum- A combination of opium, morphine and codeine, that when administered was both a powerful pain reliever but a powerful narcotic as well.  
><strong>**

****Safe to say that medical practices during the 18th century weren't the best. You would likely die from infection from your wounds before you were healed. And really the only way to help a person with pain from surgery was to get the person drunk, or high, or just perform the surgery while they were still awake and hope they don't die. Most did.****

****Uduak's Mourning Rituals-So there is seriously a lot of information of Igbo mourning traditions. Most of which can be found on various websites to which I will post on my profile for you guys to read. Because Uduak has been separated from her tribe for so long and the people within it, her way of doing rituals is almost vastly different. Although some similarities remain. I.E. Head shaving, smearing the black dye all over he body, worshiping her Gods through statues. It's very elaborate and super involved. Check out my profile for links.****

****Hope you guys enjoyed. Now its time for me to get back to college work. Contrary to popular belief college is not as easy as everyone thinks. Its all papers, papers, and more papers, thesis, and assigned readings. Writing this is seriously like a breath of fresh air. ****


	5. Prepared

**Hello. Finally another chapter after forever. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own AC3 or any AC stuff. I just write fanfics about it. Why cause that's what I do. **

**Thanks for all the Faves, likes, and reviews. You guys keep me going and stuff. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Myriam <strong>

Connor's blood tainted the water a light pink as Myriam cleaned the bandages that once covered the wounds on his chest.

"How is he?"

Surprised she glanced over, to see Norris had taken a place at her side. So lost in thought, she hadn't even noticed him approached. Which was not like her. She tried to be as aware are possible. It came with being a hunter, noticing even the tiniest of signs and using that to her advantage.

"He is healing," Myriam said. She glanced down at her hands, the palms stained pink. She could do very little to help. Dr. Lyle and Diana were trained for such work after all. "He drifts in and out of consciousness, but the worst has past."

" And Uduak?" Norris asked hesitatively. Everyone always did. As if to ask such a thing were forbidden.

Her state is the most delicate of all…Myriam thought. After all, it was Uduak who'd forbidden anyone from visiting her or Connor. Myriam was surprised Uduak even let her in. Perhaps she sensed, that unlike all the others, Myriam would not take no for an answer.

"She…" Myriam searched for the words to say. What could she say about Uduak? Each day she seemed to draw further and further away. She did not eat, she barely slept, and her days were spent caring for Connor. Washing him, changing him, feeding him, her gaze empty, and seemly unaware. Connor's comrades visited, giving her messages, updates on their apparent search for Ngozi, and she regarded them much as if they were never there.

" She…" she cut her own words short. " I am sure she will be better when Connor is well."

Myriam realized she did not sound so sure. She glanced back down at the task at hand.

What am I even doing? I'm not useful to anyone here.

Norris touched her hand, pausing her hectic movements.

"It will all be fine," He said hopefully.

She shook her head. "I'm not so sure. The entire homestead is in disarray. Everyone is trying to go about like nothing is happening, but…" She sighed in defeat.

"That was not a question," Norris said squeezing her wet hand. "Everything will be fine."

"Your right," Myriam said. "When did I become such a worry wart?" She stood wiping her hands on her pants. "I should get back inside."

Norris grab her elbow. "I love you Myriam," he said grinning.

She smiled. "I love you to-"The sound of crashing, and shouting interrupted her. She stood, dropping what she was doing and running to Uduak's home. Norris behind her as she ran up the stairs.

Connor was attempting to restrain a struggling Uduak, while she kick, fought and screamed.

Her foot hit the wound at his side, and he let her go to stumble from the bed. Uduak sat up, and sprung attempting to come at Connor again, and Norris grabbed her, wrapping his thick arms around her middle and lifting her up. She screamed and fought against him, but Norris was not wounded, so her struggles went in vain.

Myriam rushed to Connor side, along with Dr. Lyle. The stiches in his side had broken, but the wound at first glanced did not seem too severe. Still Connor's gaze never left Uduak. Even wounded and half beaten, Myriam could see the concern in his eyes, how much he longed to reach for her, despite everything.

" It's not," she mumbled. "It's not."

Connor pushed their hand away, beckoning to Norris with his gaze to let Uduak go. Uduak slid to the ground the moment she was released, her head down, her hands balled into the fabric of her dress.

She cried, thick wet sobs.

"Uduak…" Myriam started.

Norris placed a hand on Myriam's shoulder. He gestured to the door, pulling Myriam when she resisted.

She sat on the porch with Norris in silence, until the door opened and Connor came out, fully dressed.

Both she and Norris stood at the same time, their gazes questioning.

"I apologize," Connor said slowly. "For causing so much trouble and worry." His hands went to both Myriam and Norris's shoulder.

Norris shook his head. "It is fine my friend. We are a family here, it is the least we can do."

Connor nodded solemnly, but Myriam could tell his thoughts, his being was still inside the house, perhaps still inside the room where she knew Uduak was.

His turned his attention to Myriam. "Thank you."

She did not have to ask for what. She knew he was thanking her for caring for Uduak, and he was asking without words for her to continue doing so.

And how could she say no. As difficult as Uduak was to deal with, how could she, in the face of the man she—the homestead owed so much to, say no?

_In the end…why am I here._ Before she'd told herself it was for Uduak. They were friends after all, and being there for each other was what friends did, was it not? But now that she was faced with realization, it was hard to think about.

_I must be honest with myself_…Myriam thought. _I wasn't able to be Connor's woman…so I told myself…that in the end…I would be anything else he needed me to be._ That was the least she could do after everything he'd done for her.

That meant being Uduak's friend. She saw the way Connor looked at Uduak, how her sadness and loneliness, transpired into his sadness and loneliness, how her happiness brought about his. Myriam like every other homesteaders, wanted Connor to be happy.

_Happy…_could any of them be happy after all this was over?

"Yes," Myriam whispered in answer to his unspoken question.

She wasn't sure if he heard her, neither did it matter, as he walked past them, his weapons strapped to his form, his stance determined.

Myriam did not watch him go, she had a more important task to attend to. Instead she trailed back into the manor to join Uduak, still sitting on the floor of Connor's room, form shaking.

* * *

><p><strong>Connor <strong>

Pain.

He was not surprised. Pain was a constant in his life.

He watched, Uduak as she stepped into the room with a tray of soup and bread. Gone was her black hair, the shades that once guarded her emotions.

Their gazes met for half a second, then her eyes flickered downward.

"You should eat," she said sitting on the stool beside him. She pressed the spoon down into the soup, ladling up some of the brownish liquid. He glanced over her hands, let his eyes run over the ways the veins crisscrossed beneath the skin.

She held the spoon up to his lips.

"No," he said pulling his face away. "I can feed myself."

She sighed deeply. "Open your God forsaken mouth."

"Uduak…" he lifted a bandaged hand to grab her shaking wrist. " It is fine."

She was on him then, sending the contents of the tray, sitting on her lap scattering to the floor. He lifted both hands to lock around her wrist as she came at him. Her face was unrecognizable as she fought against him, a mixture of sadness, anger and desperation.

"It is not fine!" She struggled. "It's not. It's not."

Her knee hit his closed wound, and he gasped in pain, feeling the stiches break. Sliding his hands up her arms, he flipped her, swiftly laying her on her back and pinning her down.

The door opened and Dr. Lyle, Brianna, Myriam and Norris came storming in.

Ignoring the pain from his wounds he half stumbled, half stood from the bed, holding his side, watching warily as Uduak stood and came at him again, only to be contained by Norris, who took hold her by the middle and lifted her up. She struggled in his arms, screaming, and wailing before growing tired and falling still.

"How can you say that?" She cried.

Norris glanced at Connor, asking with his gaze what he wanted him to do.

Connor nodded, and he let Uduak go. She fell to the floor on her knees, holding her mouth as she cried.

They left, leaving him and Uduak alone again, and Connor approached her slowly. His hands out sketched as if soothing a wild animal.

_Uduak_…He bent down slowly beside her, holding his bleeding side, cursing inwardly as every broken rib shifted, and every cut seemed to reopen. Cautiously he pressed a hand to her shoulder, ready to move back when she flinched suddenly.

"I can't do this," she said. "I can't…I can't…" She wiped her face with her sleeve, "I am not like you…I am not strong…"

He wanted to tell her that he wasn't as strong as she thought he was, that he was as afraid, always had been of what the future held for them.

"I will find him," Connor said instead. _Dead or alive I will find our son. _

Uduak glanced up then, eyes red and swollen, her gaze meeting his, and for a moment it seemed she did not recognize him, then back down again, roaming over his body, the opened wounds soaking blood through the bandages, the bruises on his chest and shoulders.

He knew she was thinking about how he planned to do it, broken and injured as he was.

"I will," he said again.

She rubbed her hands against her arms, "Is this to be our fate?" She spoke the question to the air, refusing to look at him. "I could have…I should have…waited…to have you another time…when all was over."

She blamed herself, as she always did. He reached for her, to tell her she was wrong, that if anyone was to blame it was himself, these were the enemies he had made, his foes he had to defeat. They would have targeted the ones he cared about regardless, whether she was there or not. She pushed his hands away, and shrugged back from his touch.

"At least give me this," she said. "To hold for you. As you bleed for our sake, let me carry the scars of the wounds we cannot see." Her eyes met his then, sad and heavy, and his heart despaired.

For a long while he'd thought he could forget, at the very least as long as he was with her and Ngozi, what he was, what he had to do. He thought he could separate the two. But there was always something there to prove him wrong. Always something to remind him that he wasn't meant to be happy, to actually have something of his own.

_"In your quest to save the world make sure you don't destroy it first…"_

_The world…my world…is crumbling. _

Reaching up she touched his cheek, then leaning forward kissed his forehead, the side of his mouth, his lips. Her lips tasted of salt and blood, and her hands felt like paper against his skin, so breakable, so light.

"I will find him." He said the words with as much determination and promise as he could muster, under the crushing weight of her gaze.

* * *

><p><strong>Myriam<strong>

A woman came to the manor hours after Connor left, beside her Fenrir. The wolf pup reacted the moment he saw Myriam, lifting up on his hind legs to jump on her. He was bigger than the last time she saw him, and the force of his jumping almost knocked her over.

"Down boy," Myriam said laughing. "Yes I've missed you to."

The woman at the door took a half step forward. She was tall, with golden skin, and long brown hair that was twisted into elaborate braids. Beads and feathers hung from the strands, along with tiny skulls and animal bones. Tiny white dots surrounded her eyes, cheeks and mouth, coming together to form the imprint of a skull against her face. Large earrings hung from the lobes of her ears, golden bands clung around her elongated neck. She wore a simple brown dress, the bottom ragged and dirty.

She was both strangely beautiful and terrifying. Yet Myriam felt at peace.

She smiled, and all at once Myriam was reminded of Uduak.

"I have come to see my Sister," the woman said.

"Your sister?"

"Uduak."

"You—"Myriam had heard Uduak mention she had a sibling, but it was always fleeting.

The woman nodded. "Is she here?"

"Yes," Myriam said. "She is inside." She turned and started to lead the woman inside, not thinking twice whether she should ask Uduak if she wished to see the woman or not. Her feet seemed to move merely on their own, so ready to please this woman she didn't even know. Fenrir raced in front of her, bolting into the room that was once Achilles, where Uduak sat.

"Fenrir," Uduak said surprised. "Thank the Gods you are alright."

Myriam stepped into the room, the woman behind her, and Uduak glanced up surprised.

"Jeri?"

Jeri nodded. "Hello Sister. It has been far too long."

Uduak stood, the action so quick she almost stumbled. Brianna gripped her arm steadying her.

"Why are you here?" Uduak called, her voice suddenly raised, insistent. "Where were you when I needed your help?"

"I am sor-"

Uduak cut her off. "Where is he?"

Jeri shook her head. "Uduak you must remain cal-"

"No," Uduak barked. "Where is Ngozi. I know you know. Please just tell me."

"The Templars," Jeri said, "They have him. But-"

Uduak took her hands. "Please Jeri. Was it not I you who pulled him from my womb, you who cared for him as I lay, half dead. Are you not also his mother?"

Jeri hesitated. "Mother…"

"What of mother?" Uduak asked.

"Mother is among them."

Uduak's face fell. "What do you me—"

"They came," Jeri said. "Seeking the power of the Gods. Seeking the future. We told them as we have all. We see only that which She allows us to see. Those whose futures most shape her will of time. Nothing more, nothing less. Still they demanded. I refused, I would not push to see that which could not be seen, test Her will. But Mother. She agreed to go with them. And although she could not help them…she knew of one who could."

_Ngozi…_

Myriam understood little of what was happening, but she knew enough to know to which Jeri was referring. Something like fear settled in the pit of her stomach, and she wondered if perhaps she should walk away.

"Ngozi," Uduak said echoing her thoughts. "But he cannot-I thought only you and mother…"

Jeri shook her head, the action causing the beads and bones in her hair to click together, the sound radiating across the room like tiny beating drums.

"We," Jeri said and her hand tightened around Uduak's. Myriam glanced over the skin of Jeri's hands. Even they were tattooed with tiny dots forming the shape of finger bones, the nails black as night. "Are Her servants," Jeri said her voice suddenly filled with joy. " I, you, Mother, her mother before, on and on throughout time. Ngozi, like Ratonhnhaké:ton was born with the blood of Gods, as his ancestors before. The blood of Gods and of servants."

Uduak pulled her hands back, rubbing her palms against her skirt, staining the fabric black.

"I care nothing for this talk of blood and Gods. Where is Ngozi? All else does not matter."

"I do not know," Jeri said. "I cannot see."

"Then what good are you Jeri," Uduak said her voice almost a shout. "They could kill him."

" They will not."

"No they will use him as a weapon. And my Mother, our Mother is to teach him all he needs to know."

"It will take time," Jeri said.

Uduak rushed past her.

"Sister."

"Someone needs to warn Connor," Uduak said.

"You mustn't, Jeri said reaching out and gripping Uduak by the arm. Uduak paused. "I do not know if this is the madness of Mother, or merely Her will. I have done all I can, I dare go no further. I ask you do the same."

"He is my son. All I will have when Connor is gone, when the moon falls from the sky and the heavens crack. He is the only thing reminding me that all this is real. I cannot merely stand by."

Jeri let her go. "Then do as you will Sister."

Uduak did not hesitate did not look back as she ran down the hall. Myriam watched her, confused, wondering if she should follow, before once again holding back. When she finally glanced back up to gaze at Jeri, she was surprised to find the woman crying. Her lips moved, yet no sound escaped. And Myriam could only guess what she was saying.

_A prayer perhaps…to the God she spoke of…._

Then she left, without another word, or without warning, walking in the direction that Uduak just took.

Fenrir did not follow her, instead he stood by Myriam's side, watching the doorway, until Uduak returned stone faced, Brianna at her side.

* * *

><p><strong>Luke <strong>

"Fancy," Sana said as she glanced upon the Ebony wood doors, both eyebrows raised in clear surprise. "Why do we not have doors like these?"

"Are you saying you prefer a door over wine, women and weapons?"

Sana touched the door, her tan fingers running considerably over its elaborately carved frame.

"Well?" Luke inquired.

"I am thinking on it," Sana said a curl of a smile on her lips. She knocked on the wood, with the preciseness of one who knew the quality of such doors, and wished to test its thickness and quality.

"There was no need to knock," Luke said "There is a reason he keep us waiting." He withdrew his daggers then, pulling the sharp blades from the harnesses attached to his arms, hidden within his sleeves. Blades withdrawn he threw them, tip down into the bush bed beside the door.

Sana sighed. "I see." she said withdrawing her weapons as well. Throwing knifes, dozens of them, hidden in places Luke could only imagine. She dropped them in the dirt one by one, the metal clinking like change.

Still the doors remained closed.

Luke pulled off his boots, and Sana followed suit, slipping knifes from their hidden compartments, to join the other assortment of weapons.

_They are nothing if not cautious. _

The doors opened then, just as he was about to slip back on his boots. A young man stood at its frame.

"Welcome Mr. Rhodes. You are expected."

"Am I to believe this is how you treat all your guest?" Luke asked pushing past the young man to walk inside.

"We must take the utmost precautions you understand Sir. I do hope you did not take offense."

"I have," Luke said. "Wine," he snapped his fingers. "The best you have."

" Yes. Very good sir, and for the lady?"

Luke glanced over at Sana, already she was checking the place out, picking up vases and setting them down, examining paintings. He could see her fingers twitching in anticipation. For a moment he considered whether it was a good idea to bring her along. It would only be a matter of time before she picked the place clean.

He decided his visit would be short.

"My Lady," the servant said, "If you would be so kind as not to touch that-"

"Am I not your guest," Sana said starting to argue.

Very short.

"Where is-"Luke began.

"Still the needy little brat I see."

_Speak of the devil and he will come…_Luke thought as a figure descended the stairs.

He was tall with straight auburn colored hair, and eyes the color of the sky. Unique traits that labeled him immediately.

"Still holding a grudge I see," Luke said his lips curling into his characteristic smirk.

"And what pray tell would that be?"

"Of us all, I have always been the better looking one of the bunch. The others have accepted this. You although, seem to still be holding on to false hope. Gained a little weight I see. You always had a weakness for sweeties."

A frown, small but there. Luke's grin widened.

This was a game they always used to play. Who could get under the other's skin the fastest? Luke was proud to say, one he usually won.

"Enough, I did not call you here to play games."

"Pray tell Brother, why did you call me here?" Luke said. Gone was the amusement in his voice. He'd been summoned-no more like threatened.

"Come, we should speak in the meeting room. There are others there I would like you to meet." He ascended back up the steps, leaving Luke to follow.

He glanced over at Sana, telling her with his gaze to tread lightly, but keep her guard up. She nodded and filed in behind him as he climbed up the stairs.

They were waiting as promised, all gathered around a large table. Faces Luke did not recognize, or even cared to, but he knew who they were. Knew it by the clothes they wore, the insignias scattered across the room. They all lifted their gazes from the table when he stepped in.

He counted quickly. Six in total, not counting his brother which would make seven.

"Gentlemen," his brother introduced. "This is Luke Rhodes. The man I was telling you about."

The oldest in the group stepped forward, he had to have been about fifty or sixty, give or take.

"A pleasure to put a face to the name," the man said. He out sketched his hand, and Luke glance down at it, noting how wrinkled it was. "I am Arnold Bar-"

"Delightful," Luke said not taking his hand. He strolled past the man to sit at the edge of the table across from his brother. A bottle of wine sat there, and he uncorked it and took a sip, frowning at its lack of quality. All eyes watched him with a mixture of shock and repulsion. " A poor vintage," he said sliding the bottle away.

A small form arose by him seconds later, holding a platter, on it a fresh bottle of wine and cups.

Luke glanced down at the boy, all freshly dressed, the speckles of freshly cut hair still on the tips of his reddened ears. The boy did not look up at him as he sat the platter down in front of Luke, and walked away.

Luke took the fresh bottle poured himself a glass, and took a sip.

"Better."

"Luke," his brother's voice was raised slightly in irritation. Already he was frowning, his neck flushing red from anger.

"Of course," Luke said arranging himself on the table so he faced his brother completely. "Forgive me gentlemen. It has been far too long since I held company with Templars. Even farther still that I have been requested to hold a meeting with them. I do hope you will forgive my lack of curtasey."

Happy, they were not happy with him. He could see it in the frowns etched deep into their faces. See it in the way their fist balled at their sides, and their shoulders tensed.

His brother was the first to speak. "We require the services of your men."

Luke poured another glass of wine for himself.

"There is a universal language, all men in our occupations speak," Luke replied. "Money. Have you yet tried that?"

_Two windows, one door. _It did one good to count these things when playing with fire.

"Do not jest," his brother said taking a step towards Luke. "Were it that easy, you would not be here."

" I am here," Luke said, " Because you claim to be in procession of something-"

_Something…someone…no he never claimed to have it…only alluded to the fact. _

"Bring it in."

An item was thrown onto the table then, large and brown. Luke glanced over, almost doing a double-take before he realized just what it was.

"Is this supposed to mean something to me?"

"Is it?" His brother asked. "Perhaps you should take a closer look."

He pushed the object closer to Luke, until it touched his hand. He pulled back, against his own will, as if it were hot.

_The savage…?_

_What game are you playing here Brother…_

Movement shifted at the corner of his eye and he glanced over to see the boy who'd served his drink had taken a step closer.

"You are Templars. We are Mercenaries. It only natural that we deny your request upon first asking, as I can recall, you lot have never been very kind to us. Perhaps your first offer was not an enough. As you so well know, money cannot always cure a broken heart."

_Whatever game you play brother. I do hold any valuable pieces, nor do know the rules. So I shall play the one way I know how._

His eyes flickered to Sana then, barely a glance, but she noticed.

She sprung first, already ready for the command. Her hands wrapping about the neck of the person closest to her. The silver glint of a tea spoon pressed against their neck. Luke was next, considerably slower than Sana, having had to pick himself up off the table. He withdrew two small pistols from his sleeves, and pointed them at the two closest people in the room.

"Don't move," Luke warned. "We may be out numbered, but I can assure you, my comrade alone will have at least three of your lives before I can waste even two."

A laughed. "You insult me. At the very least four… I've never killed a man with a tea spoon before. I imagine it cannot be that difficult."

The cold of metal touched the skin of Luke's neck, and he sighed.

"I should have known," he said. "This was far too easy. Hello Isaac."

"Anthony," Isaac said as a response, "What do you wish for me to do?"

Luke shifted in Isaac's grip. It never was a pleasant feeling having a knife pressed up against the throat. Something about the sharpness of it, the cold.

"Yes brother," Luke said. "Whatever should he do with me?"

Sana smiled. " I can think of a few things."

"It would seem," Anthony said. "We are in a stalemate. I have you killed, and your wench kills me. With a tea spoon no less." He smiled.

"I can assure you," Luke said. "She is just as excited as you are."

"Luke…" Beside Luke the boy shifted, his eyes wide at his studied his face.

Luke looked at the boy, truly looked at him, their eyes meeting, hazel against blue. And Luke suddenly felt like he knew him, had seen the boy a dozen times before. Something in the way his lips curled into a frown, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Kill him," Sana said, "And you can forget about the Mercenaries joining you. You can forget about anything but war." Somehow she seemed happy at the prospect of him dying and war between mercenaries and Templars insuring.

"Tell me boy what is your name?" Luke said. Suddenly everything else around him felt like background noise, unimportant and annoying.

The boy glanced at Isaac, his eyes wide, then at Luke. "Ng-Peter," he said.

"Delightful." Luke said. "Now Sana, if you would as kind as to release my brother. Who will in turn call off his lap dog."

Slowly she took a step back releasing Anthony. Isaac followed backing up from Luke, his knife the last thing to leave Luke's throat.

"I will need time to consider this. Be sure to have a room prepared for me and my comrade, as well as dinner, and several bottles of your finest wine." Reaching over he patted Isaac's cheek, "You can handle that all, can't you old boy?"

Luke started for the door, Sana filing in behind him. Still he could fear the boy's eyes on him, demanding without words. That gaze was unsettling.

"Why didn't you let me kill him?" Sana whispered fiercely behind him. "Those sniveling cowards are all that's left of the Templar leaders in this area. We could have easily killed them all and-"

"Not just yet, there time will come. There is much I must discover first."

"You wish to know," Sana said, "Whether or not that women is in danger."

Luke paused.

"Why…would you-"She started but he placed a hand on the top of her head silencing her.

"There is a great deal that is more important," Luke said. "Send word to the Dens. Tell them I am here, and I wish to convene in exactly three days. Tell them no decisions will be made before then."

"What of you?"

"I will remain here. Try to uncover what my dearest brother has planned."

"You should not be alone," she said. "They may try to kill you."

Luke snorted. The girl's concern really was sweet, if not a bit unnecessary he'd been playing this game a lot longer than her, moreover he knew his brother, knew him almost as well as he knew the back of his own hand. They were cut from the same cloth after all. "Better I would think," Luke said examining his own scarred, calloused hand, "As small as their numbers are, they do not want a war."

"And that hidden blade? Did it belong to-"

"Yes," Luke answered, "It belongs to an old Savage friend."

* * *

><p><strong>WHT! Yes you get no Uduak, nor Ngozi perceptive this chapter. Not quite sure it that's a good or a bad thing. Good I guess in that you guys get to see how everyone else views what's going on. Honestly for me, lately Luke has been the funniest to write. Maybe that's why I' brought him back? Cause I miss the little wanker...who knows. Anyhow. So much stuff has happened. <strong>

**Uduak. Omg. Her mental state is a little iffy right now. As far as Luke goes, I don't even know myself what he's feeling. I've always been super mean to my characters. And Uduak and Luke are of no exception. Connor may not be my character ( curse you Ubisoft), but I can torture him to. YES THEY DO NOT GET TO BE HAPPY! So no happiness for them. Why because I'm evil. Huhahahahahah. **

**THE FEELS! OH THE FEELS! **

**But no seriously, there will be happiness...eventually. I'm just not sure right now. You will just have to keep reading to find out when. **

**Background info stuff: **

**Luke: So I really haven't given a lot of info on Luke's family. We know there is his father( dead), his mother ( we assume is still living), his twin sister Alisa(dead), Anthony( Just introduced), and a whole other score of siblings that are frequently mentioned in passing. It's safe to assume Luke hates at least half of them, and there are a good bit. While this is not a major point in the story, just to curve some curiosity, I will say that there are at least six of them, Ailsa being the only daughter, and Luke the youngest. As far as whose the most established of the group, its hard to say, seeing how they all have their hands in something different, thanks to their mother. Yes, their mother. Who we will, hopefully, probably, soon, sometime, maybe, get to meet. ( Looks around awkwardly). **

**So what do you guys think? Is it to much? To little? Your feedback is greatly wanted and appreciated. Wooden doors and Tea Spoons for everyone who reviews! **

**Until next time!**


	6. Familiarity

**So here I am with another chapter. After like I think a couple of months, and I'm suffering from massive writer's block. But oh no, not just for this story but for my others as well. I think college has seriously robbed me of all creativity. I've gotten you guy's private messages on both here and my deviantart. And I'm here to tell you, I'm not doing this on purpose. My goal while in college is to finish up my undergrad in Information Science, and go for my masters in Library Science, before getting a job and becoming a writer/Librarian. So fanfiction is like my own little way of practicing. So bottom line, I'm super excited to write. So like I said before, I am not doing the whole months between submissions on purpose. **

**So enjoy guys. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own AC3 Ubisoft does. I do not own their characters, only the ones I personally invented. But wouldn't it be swell if I did. A girl can dream can't she. **

* * *

><p><strong>Uduak<strong>

Silence finally settled over the homestead after a long day of bustle as merchants and theirs ships took port to load cargo onto traveling caravans.

Silence and that stillness that came with sorrow.

I'd given up wearing dresses, I'd given up caring. I wore trousers now, brought from Helen, and shirts designed for men. They were more comfortable anyway. I could see why Myriam preferred to wear them. Hands on my abdomen I sat on the hill atop Achilles's gave, incense burning at my sides, as I watched the sun set in the horizon.

"You tried to warn me," I reaching forward and touching the headstone that displayed Achilles's name. "That it wouldn't be easy." He tried, and like usual I did not listen. Neither of us did. Still if I could turn back time, erase everything. Would I?

"Uduak."

I turned my head slowly to see Connor standing behind me. He looked shorter somehow. Perhaps it was the slump of defeat, the weight of the bad news he was to carry.

"I come here…when I feel like giving up," I said. "To talk to the old man. Somehow it always calms me down. Achilles's spirit no doubt…especially during sunsets." I tapped the space beside where I sat. Connor approached hesitantly before sitting crossed leg beside me.

"Uduak I have no-" he began.

I grabbed his hand and placed it on my abdomen right above my own. He glanced down at the place where our hands sat then up at me bewildered. I almost laughed at his expression. It was the first time I'd seen him so surprised. Surprise was not an emotion that regularly crossed his face.

"Are you hurt?" He asked.

I shook my head. "I am with child…" It felt strange to say it to him. No matter how many times I rehearsed in my head. Embarrassed I did not look at his face, at the expression he made at that moment. "I felt I should tell you before the others did."

"The others?" He asked softly.

"Of course Brianna and Dr. Lyle knew. I think even before I did-but it was Diana that took real note. I propose it because she's had so many herself…she thinks it's a girl. She says because I have retched once, or felt any kind of sickness. I hope this is the case." I felt his hand tense above mine.

"Why would it not be?"

"A lot may happen," I said slowly. "We cannot be certain until-"I cut myself off. I could not tell him of the others, not yet, not now.

"I could not tell," he said.

I turned and frowned at him. "Are you trying to call me fat? Mr. Kenway, is that any way to speak to a lady?"

He shook his head defensively. "No I merely meant..." He shook his head again, apparently at a loss of words to save himself.

"I can barely tell either," I said nudging him with my shoulder. "It's little more than a bump. To anyone without experience, one would think I ate a little too much pigeon pie." I smiled lightly. The mood had lightened, but the sick scent of sorrow was still in the air.

I was to gain one, and yet still was without another. He slid his hand from atop mine to form a fist against his lap. Already he was planning his next move, making promises to himself.

"Do you ever wonder?" I asked. "What life would be like if we'd never met?" It was a strange question, and I could not tell where it came from.

"No," he said without hesitation.

"I do," I said. "Against my own better judgment. I ask myself where you would be. My wolf. Would he be with another? Alone? If we saw each other on the street what would we think?"

He said nothing, just stared at me his brow furrowed.

"Never mind. I'm being quite silly aren't I?"

"I do not wish to think on it," he said finally after a long pause.

"You are right," I said slowly. "Such thoughts are not good for the constitution." I turned back around to face the sinking sun. Soon it would be night, and I would have to face the darkness, touching everything and everyone.

" Connor," I called. He turned swiftly to me.

" We should have names ready," I said grinning, " For both genders I think."

" Names…"

" If it's a girl…well…your mother," I said, " What is your mother's name?"

" My mother?"

" Yes," I said grabbing his arm and shaking it. " Quick, quick. We'll make a game of it. Throwing out names as quickly as we can."

"Kaniehtí:io," he said, " Was my mother's name."

" Right so—" I stopped short. That was the first time…the first time he'd told me his mother's name. "Forgive me I meant no disrespect." I let his arm go. There went my attempt to lightened things up.

" You did not offend me," he said. " If it is a girl, and if it is your wish, we can name her after my mother."

He sounded so sincere, so sure. Why was he always so gentle to me? Did he not realize I'd lied to him so many times, kept so many things from him. It was my fault we were in the predicament we were in now, my fault our son was in the hands of his enemy. I should have pushed him away that day he came for me, told him I did not want him. That Ngozi was not his.

I could not wait to hold him some other time, and now all this.

He was looking at me with such hope. As if I could somehow save him. As if I held the keys to happiness.

I wanted to scream, "Look around you. Look at what all I've done."

"It is cold," Connor said suddenly. His hand came up to brush my cheek, his thumb against my bottom lip. His hand was warm against my face, and suddenly the cold was upon me, quick and merciless. Funny I'd forgotten it before he touched me. But was it not always like that? Had I not known cold before he came along, and filled my days with warmth? I shivered my breath creating a fog against the air. Visible my breath mingled with his, twisting and turn in the air before vanishing completely.

_Don't look at me that way...do not bind me so..._

Perhaps the cold was the very place I belonged.

I turned my head, removing my face from his grip.

"I am fin-"I started, but he was already on his feet, my hand in his as he pulled me slowly up. I had my bearing well, but he insisted on wrapping an arm around my waist and holding me up. Surprised I almost stumbled, his arm the only thing holding me still. Had I not insisted on walking, he would have no problem carrying me.

A few of the assassins were at the manor as we approached the front door, none of which I recognized. I realized then that Connor had only intended to stay long enough to see me, and give a status update before leaving again. He was not expecting to be burdened with news of my newest pregnancy. I cursed myself inwardly. What if I were to lose this child as well? Unlike Ngozi there was no finding miscarriages.

Using his moment of distraction I slid from his grip. When he tried to reach for me again I dodged his hands. "I should go check on Brianna. If I don't watch her closely she'll try to cook an entire meal by herself. Excuse me."

I retreated inside, past Fenrir who immediately leapt up from his place at the door, and scrambled to leap on me. Had I not dodged him as well, he would have nearly knocked me down. He was nearly a full grown wolf, and had the height and weight to prove it.

Brianna was in the kitchen as I expected, stirring soup. I rounded the corner. The second I did I was grabbed and spun in a half circle.

"Oh Uduak dear."

"Emily?" I gasped.

She pulled back, flecks of tears were in her eyes. "I heard about little Ngozi. Why did you not contact me sooner?" she touched my cheeks ran her fingers through my short hair. "I almost did not recognize you, you look like a boy. What happened to your hair?"

I pulled away from her roaming hands. She frowned.

"I did not want to hinder you," I said.

"Hinder? I am your dearest and closest friend aren't I? To tell me would be no consequence."

"Yes," I said, "But—"

"We must find him. Where is Connor? What is he doing? How about those strange men up front? They look fierce, capable, we should deploy them."

"Connor is doing all he can," I said. "So are they."

"They are obviously not working hard enough. I've sent word to my girls. They are to keep their ears sharp. Poke and pry every man they service for information."

"Emily you didn-"

She waved her hand at me. "Speak nothing of it. Now what do you have so far. Any leads. Locations."

I shook my head. Now that she was asking me I felt that everything that was done had been for not. We were going around in circles. I wiped at my eyes, already feeling the tears coming.

"By the Gods, I don't know what is wrong with me."

"Do not distress." He led me to a chair and made me sit. "Such is natural." She sat down in front of me, and took my hands. "Our children are all we have," Emily said. "The only thing we create almost wholly ourselves. Not to deny, the man's helpful contribution. However small it may be. But at the end of it all, it is we who endure the pain, we who bring forth life." Her hands tightened around mine. Ironic isn't it. Even God himself, as almighty as he is, saw fit to have a woman bare his son. And even she wept at her loss."

Her blue eyes scanned my face, catching my gaze momentarily before looking away as if embarrassed.

"Not to seem queer," she said. "But you would make the most fetching man."

I giggled despite myself, the moment causing the tears to course faster down my cheeks. She reached up and touched my cheek.

"You deserve none of this you know. It is a shame. But such hardships are necessary, even if only to remind us that we're alive."

She sat holding my hands, until Connor came back in. He glanced warily at her, no doubt expecting her to jump up and attempt to kiss him again, before traveling cautiously to where I sat.

"You are leaving again," I said before he could utter the words.

He nodded, yet his gaze was turned from me.

I stood, "What's wrong?"

"There is a ship, we suspect it is carrying more Templars, to station them here. I am to pursue it."

" Is Ngozi on it?" I asked. "Will it give any leads to where he might be?"

"I leave tonight," he said refusing to answer my questions.

"But what of-"

"Your worry should be here." A blunt firm statement, the feeling behind it without cause to hurt, yet my heart lurched in my chest, and anger boiled in my gut. Flushed I pushed past him, walking at a steady pace down the hall and out the front door. No one but Emily chose to follow me. I made it to the front door of my own home before she finally caught up.

"Did I just witness a fight between the two of you?" She sounded strangely intrigued.

"Take me with you," I said.

"Where? To my home? To Boston."

"Anywhere," I said. "This place. It is only serving to suffocate me."

"I don't think…" Emily started.

"He would have me stay here. Pretend nothing is wrong. To wait and watch him leave, day after day. It is sickening. Although I know it is only his way of protecting me. I know he means well…but…"

"Say no more," Emily said taking my hands. "My home is as open to you are yours was to me."

"Really?"

"Yes. Now pack up some things. I do not suppose you will be back after your stay with me. Oh and Uduak."

I paused halfway up the steps. "Do bring a dress. I cannot have you running around Boston's in rags."

* * *

><p><strong>Ngozi <strong>

"Again."

Pain radiated up Ngozi's arm as he stumbled backwards, struggling to regain his footing.

"Did you not hear me? Again."

Ngozi ran forward, screaming as he lifted the wooden sword. He jabbed forward attempting to hit Isaac in the stomach. Isaac dodged and swung around, striking Ngozi between the shoulder blades with his bare hands. Ngozi fell then, sliding across the hard barren dirt of the training field.

He could taste blood, and he realized he'd bitten his tongue.

Isaac stood above him, still as tall and opposing as the day Ngozi first truly met him. The day after the men told him his father had been killed, Isaac had come to Ngozi personally. To introduce himself, and confirm that he was the one who'd killed his father.

"In_ time_," he'd said. "You_ will understand why_."

Ngozi did not want to understand why. He wanted to go home. Back to the homestead, to his mother and Nela. His father was gone now, as unbelievable as it seemed. Someone had to take care of everyone, to make sure the homestead was safe.

"This_ is your home now. Obey and all will be well. Disobey and there will be consequences_."

"You are angry," Isaac said. "When you should be calm."

He came at Isaac again, this time with his bare hands, shouting as he attempted to punch him.

"Calm," Isaac said dodging, and Ngozi almost stopped, before he remembered the fear he felt, remembered Fenrir curled in the dirt, and anger overtook him again. He charged, intended to head-butt the Isaac in the groin.

Thump.

Pain made him fall. The feel of a form larger than his own on his back kept him down.

"Let me go," he screamed.

"Such anger," Isaac said.

Ngozi scanned the training ground, his eyes falling on the scattered group of men observing the fight with interested eyes. He hated them. He hated them all. His eyes fell to the Isaac's boot next to his ear. Buckled on its end was a knife. With fingers, quick from hunting he grabbed the knife, pulling it from its sheath and turning it, attempting to stab Isaac in the foot.

A hand wrapped around his before he could.

"Good show," someone said behind him. "But I was not aware your lot was in the business of utilizing children."

"This does not concern you," Isaac said.

"No. Well the others will be delighted to hear that. I must admit moral has gone down since we've started this little agreement."

"That is quite enough Isaac."

Isaac's weight shifted off of Ngozi's back. Ngozi coughed, the air returning to his lungs.

"Here." Hands found their way under Ngozi's armpits lifting him up. The touch was foreign and unwanted. His senses returning, Ngozi spun, rage filling him again.

The figure that had touched him came into view then.

_Luke…_the man from the meeting, the one in his mother's sketchbook. Surprise made him pause. His mother knew this man.

"Do not stop," Luke said. "You are small. Weak. But fast. That puts you at an advantage." He pointed to a spot at his ankle, then his shin, moved up and pointed to his groin and the area around it. "All areas of weakness."

Slumping down quickly Luke swung out catching the ankle of the nearest guard and knocking him down. The man fell with a cry. Not hesitating Luke, still kneeling punched the fallen man square in the jaw knocking him out.

Then standing to his full height he approached Ngozi. When he reached him he out stretched his hand.

"Luke Rhodes."

All at once Ngozi felt his rage evaporate, suddenly forgotten. Luke smiled, and Ngozi was reminded of a cat—no a lion. Perhaps even one of the suave heroes from his books. He felt, he could trust this man, out of all the others.

_But he is the brother of Anthony, _Ngozi thought his hand tightening into a fist. He had heard that correctly hadn't he. They called each other brothers. Ngozi's eyes drifted to Anthony standing behind Luke. They had the same eyes, cold and blue, piercing like shiny marbles.

"Your name is Peter is it not?" Luke asked grinning. Habitually Ngozi cocked his head slightly to the side, a mannerism he'd adopted from his mother. All at once Luke's face grew serious, his eyebrows furrowed and he frowned. Reaching up he touched Ngozi's face, running his fingers over the overgrown bangs that covered his eyes. Ngozi stiffened but did not move, suddenly frozen.

"Your eyes-"Luke began.

"You fancy children now brother?" Anthony said.

Luke's hand fell from Ngozi's face.

"He has the look," Luke said. "Of a proper solider. A few more years and more suitable training, and he could be useful."

"Quite," Anthony said. "Now if you are finished schooling children, brother, we have yet another meeting."

"Ah," Luke said. "Such is the fruits by which I live. Say, I fancy a quick stop before then, if we can manage it."

"We cannot," Anthony said.

"Not with that attitude dear brother."

Turning his back on Ngozi Luke followed Anthony and the other off the training field leaving Ngozi there frozen beside Isaac.

* * *

><p>" All clean," the woman named Rebecca said as she ran her fingers through Ngozi's hair.<p>

He glanced up at her, taking in her soft face, and huge eyes. She grinned at him, as she rubbed his face with the towel. Her touch was loving, gentle, like his mother's had been.

"You did well today," she said as she rubbed salve on his bruises. "I'm sure they are pleased."

He said nothing. His gaze went to the tiny open window, where he could see the open sky, and the birds. Looking at them, flying so free in the sky he thought of his mother, and he wondered if she was worried about him, or had she already forgotten about him? And what about father, had she forgotten about him as well? She was probably sad. So unbearably sad.

" Peter," Rebecca called. Peter that was the name they insisted on calling him now. Telling him his old name was gone, along with his old life. They'd told him to consider Rebecca his new mother now, because she would be the only person to care for him, the only person's whose obligation it was to be kind.

On his second escape attempt, he'd made it halfway across the courtyard before Isaac's hands were around him, dragging him back, kicking and biting back into the estate. Once he was back inside, Rebecca volunteered to take the punishment, blaming herself for his trying to escape once again. Her plea did not go on deaf ears, and Ngozi's punishment was passed onto her.

Nogzi watched, convincing himself he did not care, that she had something to gain by taking the fall. Afterwards she carried him back to his room, tucked him in and sat on a stool beside his bed.

" I hate you," he'd said. " I hate all of you. I hope they kill you next time."

She glanced up smiling, blood on her lip. "Sleep tight little Peter, tomorrow is another day."

She cried the rest of the night, and Ngozi watched her planning his next escape, using his hatred as a catalyst for ideas. This woman was not his mother, and never would be. His mother, his real mother would never hold him hostage, and make him do things he did not want to. But when the next day did come he did not try again. Isaac came, gave Rebecca books, papers, told her to make Ngozi read them, and she endured to do as told.

She read from the books, covering names of men, places, and battles fought, lost and won. There was so much information, so much they wished for him to learn for reasons Ngozi could not understand. This was not his home, on the homestead he learned from Father Timothy and Ms. Hans, but they were kind, even Ms. Hans when she smacked his hands with rulers, he could tell they loved him. But here, they did not love him, so why were they trying to teach him?

After reading to him, they would ask Ngozi questions, test him on the knowledge they thought he should know. He knew the answers, yet refused to answer them. As punishment he went without food, and Rebecca suffered with him, by choice or by force Ngozi could not tell.

"That man?" Ngozi asked. Rebecca's hands paused. She was not used to him asking earnest questions.

"Which man dear?"

"The one named Luke."

She resumed her wiping. "You should focus on your studies, and being good," she said. "Lift your arms."

He did as told. She slipped a nightgown over his head. "That is your mission right now. Now come along, you have a long day tomorrow."

"Is he not important?" Ngozi asked innocently. He got nowhere with being demanding and insistent with Rebecca. Ms. Hans back at the homestead had always told him he'd catch more flies with honey than he would with vinegar. He'd never really understood the saying before, but he did now.

Only he did not want to catch flies, he wanted to kill them.

"Everyone here is important," Rebecca said picking him up and sitting him in bed. She pulled the covers over him. "Even the lowest ranking solider has purpose. Is a key member in the order."

"Then what does he do? Is he in the books?" Ngozi pulled one of the books off the nightstand and pushed it opened. "Show me where?"

"Well. No," Rebecca said hesitantly.

"Then he is not important," Ngozi insisted innocently.

"He is," Rebecca said. "For now. Until we fulfill our goal."

Ngozi nodded. So Luke must have been like him, a prisoner maybe. Only they'd said Ngozi was important, that they could not move forward without him. But they never said why or how.

"Like me?" He said.

"Yes. Only you are very, very important," she said.

" Wh-"

"That's enough questions for tonight," Rebeca said abruptly cutting him off. "Tomorrow is no different. Studies in the morning and afternoon, then training in the evening. Rest little Peter."

Ngozi lay staring into the dark after her departure. Thinking about everything she'd said. There had to be some way out of this place, and he was hoping the man named Luke was the key. Why else would his mother have him her books, if he was not good like father?

Somewhere across the room, a cricket chirped, silent until Rebecca left.

The sound was comforting to Ngozi. It reminded him of his days with his father, hunting in the woods. Bent in the tall grass sometimes for hours at a time, silent, dipping and weaving between cover as they hunted. Ngozi never minded the silence, he was always just happy to have his father near, to know he'd stopped his important work just to spend time with Ngozi. Afterwards, if Ngozi was stumbling and swaying from exhaustion, his father would pick him up and carry him on his back, ignoring Ngozi's protests that he could walk on his own. Ngozi always marveled at how big his father was, even with both hands together Ngozi could never fill the space of even one of his father's shoulders. Yet when he wanted to speak evenly with Ngozi he always bent down to his level, never hovered over him, he always looked Ngozi in the eye and spoke to Ngozi as if he understood everything he was saying.

"Father is gone," he whispered into the air. Despite his best efforts tears filled his eyes, and he started to cry. "And mother will…and mother will…" he couldn't finish that sentence.

Across the room, the cricket fell still, filling the room with empty silence.

* * *

><p><strong>Luke <strong>

Luke toyed with the food on his plate, pushing it back and forth while the men in front and around him prattled on and on. On and on about matters to which he could care nothing about.

None of them acknowledged Luke and he was happy. After all his being there was only a formality, they did not need him but the man power he supplied. He was a mercenary, one whose loyalty they'd brought.

Luke glanced warily around the room, Sana stood at the door, beside Isaac. While Isaac stood stiff and aware, she leaned against the wall, arms folded, as if examining fruits at market. Luke did not know whether to be insulted or proud at her show of arrogance. Even so, he knew at the first sign of trouble, she would be at his side in a matter of seconds. That was why he'd chosen to bring her above the others.

_It is times like this…_Luke thought as he flickered a asking glance at Sana, who responded with a quick smirk, _that I wonder why you weren't born a man. _

The meeting ended with the mutual standing of all six involved parties. Missing his queue on purpose, Luke continued sitting watching the others with mock confusion.

"Stand," Anthony said, obviously embarrassed and annoyed.

Luke stood, smirking, wine glass still in hand he raised it. "To a plan well formed," he said raising his voice above his brother's.

Reluctantly the others raised their own glasses.

Afterwards Sana waited for him in the hall.

"Are our meetings that dreadfully boring?" Luke asked.

"The women help," Sana said. Then added, "The wine too."

"Speaking of women," Luke said suggestively. "And wine."

"Am I to fetch dinner for my master," Sana said a little too eagerly. "A red haired doe perhaps, or do you fancy one of mixed breed tonight."

" Surprise me," Luke said dropping a stack of pounds into her hands. "One for yourself as well, you look a tad haggled. I suppose seeing nothing but men will do that."

"And you?" She asked concern suddenly in her voice.

"What of me?" Luke asked.

She glanced around the hall, her eyes moving warily past the men roaming the hall. "You've not given an order since the den meeting," she whispered. "The others wish to know what we are doing."

Luke shook his head. He had to admit, he'd been a bit short with the others. Among mercenaries, such things were frowned upon, especially for the leaders. "What is there to know, we are doing our job, a job for which we will be paid. Handsomely," he added. " We have discussed this. The others know. They have no complaints besides the identity of our buyers. But that is to be expected. I do believe the problem lies solely with you."

Sana frowned, her girlish face suddenly displaying all her guilt. "I do not understand what you are planning. Outside the deal that is."

"Nor should you," Luke replied firmly. "You know our code. As long as my dealings do not interfere with the profit or well-being of the brothers, then I am free to do as I wish."

"But-"

"I do not question your outside dealings. Nor do I expect you to question mine. It is merely a matter of respect." He made his voice as firm and decisive as possible. It hurt him a little to do so, but it had to be done, the less Sana knew, the less she could mess up in the future. The girl cared a great deal more for him then she should have. True, in a way all mercenary brothers were like real family, but there was always a thin line the crossed kinhood and profit. As a leader Luke was never to cross that line. At least not again, and not with Sana.

"Yes," she said slowly. "Of course." But still she seemed dissatisfied.

" Now," Luke said clearing his throat, and running a hand through his hair, " What was this talk of mixed breeds?"

* * *

><p>Luke never did like clear skies and stillness that came with winter nights. Preferring instead rolling clouds full with the threaten of rain, and the slight cover of fog. Perhaps it was the mystery of it all, the surprise at the appearance of that shadow looming in the distance.<p>

It could be death herself, or even her sister, life.

The excitement laid in not knowing.

"Who are you?"

"Well done," Luke said not turning. "I scarcely heard you." He lifted his wine glass to his lips and took a sip.

Scarcely was not quite the right word, he hadn't heard the boy approach at all until he was in proximity. Even outside, among so many fallen sticks and leaves. Such skill was taught not learned, and took time, years at most.

"Who are you?" He repeated.

"Luke," Luke said. "Luke Rhodes. I take it your name is not Peter." He turned to smile at the boy, with what he hope would fill him with reassurance and trust. The boy was not swayed. He stood shoulders pushed back, chest out, legs wide, readying to take whatever Luke said. The stance alone made Luke's long healed shoulder ache.

"Connor Kenway," Luke said aloud. The boy shifted. The movement was quick, almost unnoticeable, but Luke saw it.

_So he knows the name…_

"Is that your name?" Luke asked. "Connor?"

The boy said nothing.

"How about Uduak? Is that your name?"

"Why are you here?"

" Business of course," Luke said, " Why else?"

"You work for those men?" He gestured to the inside, all lite up. Luke followed his gaze. Suddenly he wondered how the boy had managed to get away from the eyes of his watchers.

"For now yes," Luke said.

"Why?" The boy asked.

A woman arose then, brown of hair, with large eyes. She ran towards the boy skirt in hand, calling his name. He did not turn to acknowledge her.

"My mother," the boy said. "Full of drawings. You-"

The woman grabbed him before he could finish. "Am I to follow you to the bathhouse as well?" She scolded. "Forgive me Mr. Rhodes. He has taken to running if I do not watch him."

"You are his mother?" Luke asked glancing from her to the boy, who stared at him his eyes an unreadable mixture of brown and green.

_I know such eyes…I once loved one with such a gaze. _

"Yes," the woman replied without hesitation. " He is prone to wild stories. Please do not take to heart anything he says."

"Would not think of it," Luke said. "He was merely telling me of the books he'd read. It would seem he is well versed in his literature. I am only to assume you are to blame."

The woman blushed, "We should be going back inside. It is far too cold out. Come along Peter."

She took his hand and led him away. Still the boy turned and stared. Stared right at Luke with his hazel eyes, his eyes that shouted truth where Luke wanted none, resurfaced hurt that Luke had once buried, and called back an old friend and enemy from the grave.

* * *

><p><strong>So for those of you wondering whether or not Luke and Uduak will meet up again. At this point I cannot say for certain. Heck at this point, no one ( not even myself if you can believe it) really knows where Luke or Ngozi is. All we know is that they are both being held in a sense prisoner. Luke not really prisoner, but obligated to go where the Templars want him to go because he struck some kind of deal with them ( I promise I will get back to that later) and Ngozi because well...he's being held hostage. We already know why, they want him to use the bracelet thingy to see into the future, but he doesn't know why, and he thinks his father is dead, so his mission right now is getting home to Uduak. <strong>

**Uduak who is in fact pregnant. **

**Will she lose her baby? **

**I don't know. Should I? Yes I very well should...but writer's block. It seriously makes everything really difficult. I have a clear cut ending in mind, and even the events leading up the ending, but seriously no middle ideas. **

**And then there's the whole, Connor not knowing about the other lost babies. And that Uduak is keeping secrets from him, while he's out trying to free slaves, wrangle Templars, and save their son, getting hurt and all that jazz. And seriously guys none of this is bound to end happy.**

**But hey who wants happy. Happy is so overrated right? **

**And I seriously need to get a hold of a PS4 and unity so I can play the heck out of it. What I'm I saying, I need to get a hold of a copy of Rogue. I have the PS3 to play it, but lack the funds. Story of the poor college kid. Has anyone out there played it? I heard it was really good. **

**Your feedback is much appreciated. **

**Until next time. **


	7. No Part Of

**Sorry for the really long hiatus, college has been kicking my butt. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own AC3, or any of its characters, I just enjoy messing with the story lines. **

**Thanks to everyone who ever reviewed, Favorited, or liked this story. That really means a lot to me. **

**Enjoy! **

* * *

><p><strong>Uduak<strong>

Myriam, Emily and I walked the streets of Boston, Emily and I in almost matching dresses of pink and green, hand sewn hats pinned to our hair, while Myriam wore her simple tunic, pants and boots. Despite Emily's attempts she could not convince Myriam to wear a dress.

Plum in hand I took a bite, my lips curling at its initial tartness. Seeing the face I made, Emily laughed.

"Well?" Myriam said. "How is it?"

" Quite good," I said taking another bite, juice dribbling down my chin. I wiped it away curtly with the back of my hand.

" As I said it would be," Emily said. " I don't know which market you've been visiting, but this is the best." She waved across the marketplace, bustling with people. I glanced around, true I hadn't visited this marketplace before. Connor had always taken me to the others, finding that this particular part of the city was never very inviting to us.

" You've been eating all day," Emily said.

" Is that bad?" I asked.

" No, its quite the opposite, we must fatten you up. Such a small size, is not good for you hearty man of size." Emily patted my stomach tenderly. More people crowded around us, pushing as they tried to make way.

" Well. What is going on now?" Myriam asked.

" Auctions," I said.

" Ah." She said awkwardly.

Emily never missing a beat, looped her arms around both me and Myriam's arm. " Well we should be going then, this is no place for women such as ourselves." Suddenly I reminded of Connor, of how he would pull me away so I wouldn't have to see. See what my people were going through, see what he fought for every day.

She got us away from the crowd, and sighed heavily. "Blazes, I've ruined the end of my dress, yet again." She pulled up her dress end to observe the wet end stained with some sort of black liquid. I could only image what that was. Myriam mocked a cough and gestured to her unstained attire, drawing a laugh from Emily and me.

"Monsters all of them," Emily said beckoning to the crowd with her chin. "Shame most are my most visiting clients. Be happy you are done with such messy business." She sighed and gazed out at the horizon, her eyes forlorn and tired. I could see the years in her gaze, clouded and full of regret. I wondered if I had such eyes to others. Emily and I were the same age, had come from the same places, endured the same things and yet ended on two completely different sides.

"Who are truly the monsters? Those buying and selling, or those of us who just stand and watch?" I asked.

Emily frowned. "When did you start to have such morbid thoughts? Such things are really bad for the skin you know."

" Well?" I asked impatiently. Emily scanned my face, her gaze moving up and down its contours, as if searching for something. Then she sighed and closed her eyes.

" It's hard to say," Myriam said finally. " But what can we do?"

" I…" I began when Emily squeezed my arm.

" Is she not precious? If only I could keep her. The fun we could have...have had."

I realized she did not wish to talk on the subject, and I did not wish to argue, so I dropped it, much as I would had I been talking to Connor. They were both the same in that aspect, when they wish to discuss a subject they were quick to make it known.

I grinned at her, " I do not think Connor would approve."

Emily snorted, " Then he is no true man. It is in my own experience that most men enjoy the company of more than one woman. Especially two of our particular set of skills. Three if we are to count Myriam."

" Emily," Myriam and I scolded at once.

" Fine," she said. " It is your loss." Then she laughed, and we laughed with her unable to hold myself back. I hadn't had a good laugh in what felt like months. No surprise Emily was the one to pull it from me. I laughed so hard I began to cry, the tears falling so hard they ran down my cheeks in large thick drops.

" Where to now?" Emily said calmly rubbing both my arms, "We have not finished our shopping. Oh you simply must meet my hatter, he is nothing short of delightful. Oh and my dressmaker as well, he is a genius." I knew this was her way of getting my mind off the subject of Ngozi and Connor, and I silently thanked her for it, still all the shopping in the world could not shake my thoughts.

" Where would the Ladies like to go," the driver asked us as we approached the carriage doors. Brianna was already inside, twining long pieces of straw together, the items she'd brought stuffed up under the seats. When I stepped in she glanced up at me, nodded then when back to twining.

" Back please," I said before Emily could speak. " I am feeling a bit tired."

Emily sighed. " Might as well. Dinner will be waiting for us. Roasted duck tonight, my favorite if you remembered. Curtesy of Myriam."

Myriam grinned.

" I do," I said nodding. I pulled off my gloves to peer at my hands underneath, they were shaking, and the palms still stained with black ash, underneath my nails carried the remnants of dried paint.

" Oh I forgot to tell you," Emily said, " The girls found your painting to be delightful. They've yet to figure out a place in which to put it. I was thinking the meeting room. The paintings there are a touch to old, and clients always like a change of scenery now and then. What do you propose?"

"The meeting room would be nice," I said shoving my shaking hands between my thighs so that Emily nor Myriam would not notice. Myriam did, like she always did, and reached over taking my hand in her own. I avoided her gaze, afraid of what her eyes might say. She'd come with us, first despite my wishes, and I knew it was partly because she felt obligated to watch me in place of Connor. As if by doing so, she was clearing away some debt she owed him. Part of me was happy for it, the comfort of having a friend when I needed one so desperately, the other, and angry because it was only because of Connor that Myriam was my friend.

Had she not once loved him more than a friend. Did she still? It was not my place to ask, and yet I sometimes sensed her stance on my relationship with Connor. I sensed that, although she may not mean to, at times she felt I did not deserve him…a pure echo of my own feelings at times, yet it never seemed to hurt any less.

At times I wondered what would have happened if it were Myriam he chose, instead of me. What would have become of everything? Then like always I stopped myself, because it was me he chose and no one else, me he wanted. I should have been happy, not clinging to what ifs and impossibilities.

" I thought so." Emily said. "Ah. If you two don't mind, I would like to stop and check on my girls. Just to pop my head in. Heavens knows if I don't they may just stage a coup in my absence."

" I don't mind," I said.

" Neither do I," Myriam said.

" I knew you wouldn't. Did you hear that?" She said to the carriage driver.

" Yes ma'am."

" Delightful. Now about the meeting room." She continued to talk until we reached the brothel, an elaborate and grandiose three story mansion that sat on a huge expansion of land. A man made lack stood at its front, surrounded by trees, a bridge connecting to the entrance serving as a path. Like before we were greeting as we rode in by one of the guards at the front, then helped out of the carriage. I'd initially refused, seeing no reason to get out if Emily merely wanted to check up on how things were going, but she insisted, saying that she wished for me to see the meeting room.

I followed her inside, coming first to a large open room a staircase leading up to the second floor stood on either side. On the second floor were rooms, some of the doors opened, others closed.

"These paintings dear," Emily said pointing to the paintings I'd seen a least a hundred times in the time I'd spent with her. Around us some of the women flinted about, while some lay on couches of burgundy and gold, naked or half dressed. There were a few men as well, sitting at tables cups of wine in their hands, girls on their laps.

Emily stopped in front of a lavishly dressed red headed woman who stood propped up against the wall, pipe in hand, seemly uninterested in anything that was going on. When she noticed Emily she straightened up her posture, but her expression stayed the same.

" It is looking a bit empty today," Emily said frowning. " I see some of my best girls are still here."

" It would appear that way," Amanda said taking another drag of her pipe.

Two men passed by us then, drunk, slurring their words as two of the women led them towards the stairs. Seeing them Emily smiled and waved curtly, before turning back to Amanda, "Why is that?" She asked still slightly smiling.

Annoyed Amanda turned to Emily, " The play was cancelled," she said as if that was all the explanation Emily needed. " A few of our new girls have clients but-"

Emily raised her hands, " Say no more. I do hope you have marked this in the books. I suppose since you have not already started, we will send none of our girls out tonight. Make sure they are all washed, prepped and ready for tomorrow. And let us pray it is better than tonight."

" We have guests," Amanda added as Emily started to walk away. " Who are in need of escorts for the night."

" What?" Emily exclaimed turning on her heel. " And why are you not with them. Nevermind mind, where are they?"

Amanda pointed up the staircase .

" It is a good thing I stopped by," Emily said gathering up the ends of her dress and heading up the stairs, I followed her. The further up we went the stronger the scents of perfume, honey, milk and mirth grew making my senses cloud." It is far harder than you imagine to run such an establishment," Emily complained finally reaching the top of the staircase.

Men's voices and women's laughter arose from the room up ahead, and Emily followed the sound. She led us into a large room with burgundy couches that lined the walls, above them paintings of naked women encased in large ornate golden frames. Two men stood in the middle of the room, five young women surrounding them.

My eyes fell on the men for a long moment, before wondering upon the walls, and the paintings that lined them, a few were different than the last time I'd visited the brothel with Emily, just a few days before. I wondered to the oldest, and yet newest painting on the wall, that was also the most familiar to me.

It was a painting of a young woman standing partly on her tiptoes in not but her shift and stockings, her body underneath visible through a white cloud of silk. She looked as if she'd been captured in mid-stretch from a nap.

" Is that you?" Myriam asked her gaze moving over the painting, a flash of interest crossing her face.

_Is that me? _I was there when the picture was painted, I posed, and thinking it exciting and queer that was once someone wished to paint me standing up instead of laying down. When it was finished and placed on the wall, I basked in the other's jealousy, including Emily's. That Emily kept it after all this time…was strange.

_" __Shall I smile?" _I'd asked the painter, grinning. _" To tell you the truth sir, I've yet to do something like this." _

_" __I wish for beauty," _He said simply not looking up from his canvas, _" You may keep your truth." _

That was the day I took up painting on my own, wishing, if nothing else, to paint not just beauty but the truth. For truth, no matter how horrible, could also be beauty.

" Yes," I said softly.

" Yes, she is quite elegant isn't she? Unfortunately gentlemen, Uduak is unavailable for this evening."

At the sound of my name I turned to face Emily, to find that both men were staring at me.

"A shame," one said lifting a gloved hand to scratch at the stumble on his cheek. On his ring finger sat an assortment of golden rings, one of which held the remnants of wax that partly covered the engravement of a cross.

_A Templar cross. _

" A tragedy really," Emily began, " She was the bes-"

" I no longer have any other engagements for the night," I said stepping forward. My mouth moved of its own accord the words falling into place before I could stop them. I thought of Ngozi, captured in the hands of those Connor deemed enemies, those he'd sworn to kill. Ngozi's grandfathers were both Templars and they were both now dead.

" Uduak," Myriam said and her hand went to my arm.

" Grand," the man with the ring said stepping forward. " We are finished here, the carriage awaits." They filed out of the room, the girls following behind them, leaving Emily, Myriam and I alone.

The door closed behind them, and Emily spun towards me.

" What are you doing ?"

I ruffled my shortened hair. I didn't even truly know.

" I…"

" You are no longer a courtesan or have you so quickly forgotten in the face of-"

" They are Templars," I said. " They may lead me to Ngozi." Now that was saying my intention out loud my intention sounded weak, as unplanned as it really was.

Myriam raised her hands, as if trying to express the inexpressible. " Uduak. They may, there is no guarantee. You not know what these men truly want."

" I know," I said, " I know as well as anyone what they want."

" You are with child," Emily said, " What will you do when these men realize your true intentions?"

" They won't," I said. " I just need to know…"

" Heavens," Emily sighed. "Uduak I am the least bit regretful, but I cannot let you go."

" You can't stop me," I said. " Unless you plan to tell them the truth."

" Uduak…" Myriam said. " Emily is right, you do not know for sure, if these truly are the men. Perhaps you should let Conn-"

" Connor is not here," I said. "Should I wait for him it might be to late."

" And if you don't," Myriam cut herself off. " I do not think this is a good idea," she said, " But if it what's you insist, let me go with you."

" Heavens no," Emily said, " No one is going anywhere."

Myriam continued as if not hearing her. " I'll follow behind and if anything happens I can help get you out."

I nodded.

" Wait. Wait. The both of you, this this madness. Take no offense but what can you do in the face of these men?" Emily glanced over at Myriam.

" Connor taught me how to fight. Defend myself, and as far as stalking it cannot be any harder than hunting. Hopefully it won't come to hand to hand combat."

" I will be no part of this," Emily said throwing up her hands. "If something happens to you…"

" Send one of your guardsmen with us. If Ngozi is not there, he can withdraw me and bring me back here without suspicion."

"And if he is there Uduak? What then? Do you suppose they will just let you take him back?"

" Then we'll figure it out then, either way I need your help."

Emily mulled over the plan for a long moment, looking back and forth between Myriam and I, her face the pentacle of doubt before she nodded slowly. " I'm going to instruct the guards that at the first sign of trouble they are to drag you out of there, kicking and screaming if necessary."

" Thank you, Emily," I said moving to hug her.

" Don't thank me yet," she said stepping back. " I'd yet to pick you out a dress, worthy of my best courtesan."

* * *

><p><strong>Myriam<strong>

This was a bad idea. Myriam had know it since she agreed to help Uduak, knew it even more so as she stalked the carriage on her own horse, keeping far enough behind in the woods that she wasn't spotted, yet close enough that she could still see. She hoped that Brianna would talk Uduak out of it, or at least force her to not go ahead with her plan, but nothing seem to work. Myriam knew it was because Uduak was not thinking straight, her vision tunneled towards just one objective. Getting Ngozi back.

Nevermind that when Connor found out he would be furious, or that she was currently with child, or that she could be seriously injured or die. None of that mattered to Uduak, and honestly to Myriam that was the worst part of it all.

_If something happens to her…Connor will…Connor will…_She couldn't finish the thought, because she didn't truly know what Connor would do. She'd seen him cry, on the day of Achilles's funeral, so subtle it was barely noticeable, but there were tears there, shed after everyone left. And she'd seen his struggle in the years of Uduak's disappearance from the homestead, watched how he sometimes walked around, seeming to go nowhere. On the days no one could find him, he often arose from Uduak's house, smelling of paint and perfume, frowning deeply until someone noticed him, until someone asked of his condition.

Myriam decided then, that nothing would happen, that if she had to give her life, she would protect Uduak. Such a thing she had to admit, was easier said in her mind than done. But she had to try.

The carriage came to a stop in front of a grandiose mansion, larger Myriam guessed than Emily's. The large expanse of land in front and behind it was covered in guards, rifles in their hands. Myriam cursed. She had no weapon other than a long hunting knife and her bare hands, neither of which would fare well in a gun fight.

_Perhaps I should have donned a dress and rode in the carriage with Uduak and others. _She thought as she crept hidden in the grass, closer to the house. _Myriam the prostitute…_Somehow imagining it made a laugh threaten to bubble in her throat. She sucked it back, knowing it was only there because of the madness of the situation.

_For Connor…_She thought as she crept closer. _For Ngozi…and the homestead. _

* * *

><p><strong>Luke<strong>

" A poor vintage," Luke said pouring the wine onto the rug, caring not for the damage it would wrought on its hand crafted fibers. Excellent wine, fair pay and a reasonable amount of pleasure that is all he asked for. Sure he sent their lackeys out to fetch whores, not that he trusted their tastes, if their skills at picking women was anything like their skills at choosing wine, then they were in worst shape than he thought.

Speaking of whores.

" Sana where are you?" He hissed into the air.

Three days felt like an eternity. He was beginning to think she was doing this on purpose.

" Sir, Sana has returned."

Luke closed his eyes.

Speak of the Devil…

" Send her i-"

" Luke?"

Slowly. Ever so slowly he peeked open one eye. She stood at the doorway, her hands tangled in her dress at her sides. Her hair was shaved, the soft makings of black peach fuzz dusted her scalp, revealing a face that once hidden by bangs. He frowned. While she was not totally unappealing without hair, the lack of it, gave her a more savage, almost untamed look. The tattoos did not help either.

" When I asked Sana to bring me back a woman that fit my taste, I did not intend for her to bring you." He pushed his long legs off the end of the bed and stood, trying to seem as calm as possible, even though his heart was pounding with eagerness and anger. " It is times like this I wonder why I keep her around."

Uduak took a hesitate step forward. " Luke I-"

_Even when I try to escape from you, still you come running…_

She rubbed her hands together. He watched her fingers for a long moment, how ashen and stiffed they looked. "You should have worn gloves," he said absently before he could stop himself, then added suddenly " Why are you here?" Already knowing half the reason.

" My son…" she began.

" Your son?" Luke said laughing cruelly. " You have a son?" He let his eyes roam her over form. The delicate curve of her wrist, the roundness of her bottom. He knew that shape, the feel of that skin as it molded under the fingertips, hot and soft.

She frowned. " I should not have come here," she turned to the door, shoulders shaking.

" Was it Connor?" Luke asked.

" Yes," Uduak answered.

Luke ran a hand through his hair, figures.

" Where is your son now?"

" He's been…" Uduak started, then she stopped. Her eyes roamed over the room for what seemed the first time, taking in the curtains and the insignias on the walls. " Wh-Why are you with them?" She spoke the next word in a whisper, as if she was afraid the walls could hear, " Templars."

Luke smiled, " Is my being here a problem? After all Uduak it is you who showed up unexpectly."

" Then you must know," she said taking a step closer to him, bringing with her the scent of rosewater, and the natural musk of her body. " If he is here?" The surety in her voice made his chest ache. There was once a time when such a thing would have made him leap to obey, leap to please. "It is cruel of me to ask," she admitted sadly. "Forgive me…but I must know."

They were past forgiveness. Past anything that even resembled it.

" How much?" Luke said.

Her face fell, gone was the hope that made it glow just seconds ago, replaced with a look of pure surprise.

" What?"

" Quite a messy business," Luke said moving to pour himself a glass of wine. If were being completely honest with himself he moved less for the wine, and more to remove himself from her proximity. " Contracts and the like. My current contract holders have set a price, a price which is quite high if I do say so myself. If it is my help you want, your price will have to be higher. Much higher."

He did not turn to face her, to take in her facial expression, the frown that probably touched her full lips.

A long frightful moment passed before Uduak replied, "And what will your price be," Uduak asked. "What would you have me give?"

_What do I want from her…_

"I want nothing from you…"It would appear his mouth and his heart were not agreeing.

"Is it money you require?" She asked aloofly.

He lurched at her then, coming towards her in two quick strides. She lifted up her arms as if to block his blow. Deftly he pushed his foot under hers, sweeping her off her feet. She fell with a gasp, and he locked both his arms around her form, lowering her onto the ground. They both fell with a soft thud.

"Luke…" She gasped.

"Money?" He laughed, the sound thick and full of loathing. "Money is of no consequence to you," he said lifting his knee and sliding it between her legs.

She sucked in her breath, the movement of air between her teeth making a soft yelping sound.

" Lu-"

"I want," he said leaning in closer to her, until their noses brushed. _What do I want?_ He pressed a hand to her breast and squeezed. Her hands lifted then, to press forcibly against his chest. "That which you now refuse to give. That which will not be without consequence"

" Get off me," he hissed hands coming up to bat at his face, one nail successfully scratching him against the cheek. Blocking her blows he took hold of her wrist, lifting them forcibly over her head.

" Get-" she began, leaning forward he captured her lips in his own.

She struggled against him, for a long moment, her hands writhing in his, her legs moving frantically beneath him. But he did not let go, did not pull back. This. This is what he wanted. To watch her squirm beneath him.

_I want to watch you hurt as I've once hurt. _

She shivered then fell still, all resistance gone.

He pulled back away from her, realizing the moment he did that his lips was bleeding.

She glared up at him.

"Done fighting already?" He asked.

"You won't do it," she said softly. He'd expected her words to be angrier.

"I won't?" He asked. He raised an eyebrow in skepticism.

"What would you gain," she said before he could ask why.

He laughed again, "What is to be gained? I would say there is quite a bit." He gestured to her body spread out underneath him. "Provided you play along." He pressed his lips against her clothe breast, trailing down to her stomach. "Not that you will have to pretend."

Her body fell still under his.

"Very well then," she said still glaring up at him. " Do what you must."

There was nothing inviting or kind in her gaze, and part of him delighted that at least that had not changed.

" Silly Uduak-" be began when a knock at the door stopped him.

" What?" He called annoyed.

He expected Sana but it was one of the other mercenaries instead.

" Well get on with it?" Luke said not moving from his place looming above Uduak. He could feel her eyes still on him, confused and inquiring.

" We caught one, sneaking bout outside. What do you wish to do?"

Uduak shifted beneath him, kicking to push herself up.

" Bring him in, and try not to make a bit fuss of it. I don't want the others coming in here."

The mercenary left and Sana took his place, arms folded she leaned against the doorway. "Why not just let the others handle it. It is their fight."

Sighing, Luke slid from atop Uduak, straightened up his clothes and faced the doorway. " Yes, but this what we are being paid to do, no matter how much I wish to cut corners."

" Luke!" Uduak said crawling to her feet. " You can't."

_Is Connor here? _He glanced quickly over Uduak, _No…he would not have sent her alone. This is someone else, someone she knows? _

They arrived again with the captured intruder, and Luke recognized him instantly as one of the Assassins. Uduak rushed forward, stopping suddenly when she finally noticed who it was. Something like relief crossed her face, and Luke took that as a sign that she did not know this Assassin.

" Luke what are you-" Uduak began.

" This," Luke said walking to the nightstand beside his bed and pulling one of his discarded daggers off the table. Then with unsheathe blade in hand he strolled back to where the assassin was, pushed on both knees, head bowed. To his credit he did not make one sound, not even a word to validate his claim. Luke pressed the blade against his throat.

" No. Please," Uduak called. " Don-"

_This is the kind of man I am now…the kind of man I have always been…_

With one quick movement he slid the blade across the thin soft skin of the Assassin's neck. The man fell, choking and sputtering, blood staining the carpet.

" Why?" Uduak asked as they dragged the Assassin's body away. She stared at the spot where he once sat, as if not registering that he was dead and gone.

Smiling, and a few moments away from a grin, Sana handed Luke a white clothe.

" Oh, the floor is ruined," Sana said glancing down at the puddle of blood.

" And I much liked this room," Luke added sighing.

" Why did you kill him?" Uduak had resorted to shouting now. Both Luke and Sana turned to her.

" Would you have preferred they did it?" Luke asked pointing out side with the end of his dagger.

She said nothing.

" They would have tortured him for information. The entire process is quite slow and gruesome believe me."

" So am I to believe what you did was a form of mercy?" She did not sound convinced. Still her face remained hidden from his sight.

" Believe it to be whatever you will," Luke said.

" You should have just let him go."

" For him to kill more of my men, and possibly my contractor. That would not be good."

" Where is my son?" Uduak demanded.

" So this is her?" Sana said stepping around Uduak, her eyes moving across her body, examining her like a leg of deer at market. " Uduak," she whispered the name in a breathy laugh. "She has the look and smell of a whore. What should we do with her?"

"She wants something," Luke said facing her. "That I do not have. Take her to Isaac."

Uduak drew in a tight breath.

"Tell him she is my personal guest, and if at all possible try not to harm her. I much prefer for my goods not to be damaged."

"Isaac," Uduak said her eyes widening as the pieces came together in her head. "You are working wi-"

"Quite. He is in need of my aid, or at least the aid the mercenaries, and is willing to pay. A good enough excuse if any to help."

Uduak bit her quivering lip, then slowly nodded accepting the request. As if she had any other choice. They started out of the room, and Sana turned to Luke still smiling.

"You handled this surprisingly well."

Luke forced himself to tear his eyes away from the door, from her disappearing form. There was no telling what would happen when Isaac saw her, or what Uduak would do when she saw him. Luke had seen how unpredictable she could be, how willing she was to kill in order to get what she wanted.

" Go with them," Luke said.

" Scared for Uduak?" There was a slight taunting tone to her voice that annoyed Luke. He did not let it show.

" More for Isaac."

Sana chuckled. " Very well."

She started out and Luke stopped her again, "And have the boy sent to me, I have a feeling things are not quite as they seem."

* * *

><p><strong>Myriam<strong>

Blood stained Myriam's hands as she ripped free the rifle from the hands of a dead guard. His body thrown in the bush she'd just dashed from. Around her other guards walked, doing their rounds. Up ahead, a window stood half opened, light from a candle bearing through it.

Happy for the darkness, Myriam took a deep breath and darted forward, having timed the guards to her left and right movements. She rolled into the bushes ahead, right below the window, clutching the rifle tight to her chest, ready to hear the gasp of surprise that someone had seen her.

A long moment past with nothing but the sounds of their footsteps echoing in the distance and the crickets chirping in the forest.

_This is harder than I imagined it to be…_She thought as she peeked from the bush. The men had not moved, still circling, occasionally straying a few feet from their path, but not going very far.

Slinging the rifle over her back carefully Myriam crept over to the wall, one hand moving up to dig her fingertips into the indention. She'd done this a million times at the homestead, usually with the trees, but houses were really not that different. Only this time it seemed harder, maybe it was the threat of having someone hear, or the men walking about around her. Either way, her hands never shook so much while climbing.

Part of her said to stay put, wait for Uduak to come out, but it had been over an hour since she went in, and if there was trouble she would likely need Myriam's help.

" What's that over there?"

Liquid fear spread through her then, and she tensed up, ready for the sound of gunshots, the hurried rasp of footsteps. She glanced over her shoulder quickly seeing the men around her running in the opposite direction, deeper into the forest, by passing her all together.

_They aren't looking for me…_

Arm burning, and hands still shaking she hurried upwards, using whatever had distracted them as a chance to quicken her pace. Reaching the window seal she hesitated to pull herself up as she peered over into the lite room.

Inside was a small room, consisting of a bed, dresser, and a desk overflowing with stacks of books and paper. Beside it a pair of small buckled shoes sat, fumbled to either side as if the wearer quickly kicked them off. The room was empty.

Wasting no time Myriam placed one hand under the partly opened window and lifted it, heaving as she strained to hold herself up. Behind her the men were trekking back through the woods, their prize in tow.

_Come on…come on…_

The window opened with a hinged whine, and she pushed herself inside, landing on the wooden floor, any notions on being quiet lost.

She stood to her full height.

_Shite…now what…_

She could walk into the hall, but that ran the risk of definitely being seen. Maybe even take her chances with another window, but with the guards on full alert that was asking for death. Still she had to get to Uduak somehow.

She walked to the door.

" Myriam?" A voice said and she spun around.

She saw a hand first, its fingers peeking from under the bed, then the length of a child's tan arm. The legs came next, clothe in blue trousers. By the time the boy peeked out his head Myriam knew who it was. Excitement filling her she reached out and grabbed him pulling Ngozi from under the bed.

" Ngozi…"

" Myriam…" He pulled back from her, his hands coming out to touch her face, " Myriam…" A grin spread across his face. " Myriam." He hugged her, wrapping his arms around her neck, his legs around her waist. When he pulled back again his eyebrows were furrowed. "Where is mother?" He glanced around as he'd somehow misplaced her in the nook and crannies of the room.

Myriam sat him down. " She…is…" She wondered whether or not to tell him she was in the house with them, and possibly in danger.

" Peter?" A voice outside the door called, a woman's voice.

Ngozi ran forward placing his back against the door.

" Hide," he whispered. That was all the prompting Myriam needed. Crawling on her hands and knees she slid under the tight space of the bed, curling in ball between two trunks on opposite sides of where she lay. The door opened and the feet of another appeared.

" I heard talking are you alright?"

" I…" Ngozi said. " I was practicing the words. Isaac says I am to know it by heart, and be able to recite it at a moment's notice."

" That you are," the woman said. " Why is the window open dear? How many times do I have to tell you?"

" It is hot," Ngozi answered.

" Would you rather it be cold," she said shutting the window. " Do I have to nail it shut?"

" What is happening outside?"

" Nothing you need concern yourself with. Now," the woman said sighing. " Now show me what you have learned."

The woman turned her back to the bed, and Myriam slid carefully out of place, standing.

" Is there som-" she began. She moved to turn and Myriam brought the butt of the rifle up, slamming it into the woman's head. She fell with a cry, hitting the floor.

" Is she…" Ngozi began.

" No," Myriam said. "We should get you out of here."

" Where is mother," Ngozi began. " Did she come here with you?"

Myriam nodded. " She's in trouble…I think."

" Then we have to help her. There is a man here, he knows mother. He might help." Ngozi started to the door, and Myriam pulled him back.

" Wait.

He opened and door and bolted out into the hall.

" Wait," Myriam called bolting out after him. He ran down the hall, bare feet slapping against the wood tiles. The halls were empty, the smell of food growing stronger the further they moved.

Ngozi turned the corner, into an opened room, disappearing inside.

" Mother!" Ngozi shouted.

Myriam turned into the room after him gasping at the sight. Men sat around a large oval table, their faces down in their plates, drinks spilling onto the floor. Standing beside them Uduak and a dark skinned woman with tattoos. She held a knife in hand, the end of which was pushed into Uduak's side.

" Uduak!" Myriam called running into the room, the barrel of gun pressed into her back. Myriam paused suddenly.

" Don't move," a man's voice said.

" Uduak…" Myriam called again.

" I cannot do that, mother," Uduak growled jerking her hand back suddenly. She stumbled backwards, blood spilling onto the floor, gasping and choking as blood curled down one side of her mouth. In her shaking hands was a golden bangle

" Do not!" The woman with tattoos screamed lunging for Uduak. Uduak lifted the golden half circle, the metal glowing brightly. Then with hands on either side she pulled the two pieces apart.

Light filled the room, bright and hot. Then nothing at all.

* * *

><p><strong>Yes! The happiness. So I've been gone quite while, and I've had this chapter on my computer for a minute. I was just a little to busy to post it. So yes. I hope you enjoyed. Who knows when I will be able to post again. Hopefully sometime soon. <strong>

**Feedback appreciated. Virtual tomahawks and waffles for everyone who reviews. **


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